


The Magnificent Seven and the Jewel of Cintamani

by Scribe32oz



Series: Relic Hunters [4]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - 1930s, Ensemble Cast, F/M, Minor Violence, Period Typical Attitudes, Pulp
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:42:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 52,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25423333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribe32oz/pseuds/Scribe32oz
Summary: Chris Larabee and his treasure hunters are drawn into a new adventure when Inez Recillos discovers a keepsake from her dead husband is the key to finding the Jewel of Cintamani, a mystical power capable of granting all wishes. With dangerous forces converging on Inez, an old enemy surfaces with an agenda of their own and revenge in mind for the Seven.
Relationships: Chris Larabee/Mary Travis, Inez Recillos/Buck Wilmington, Vin Tanner/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Relic Hunters [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1157759
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	1. Gulag

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that this story is written in the vein of pulp serials of the 1930s and not to be considered a remotely accurate representation of any people or its culture. This is entirely fiction.

**1933 - SOLOVKI PRISON, USSR**

The cold numbed the pain. 

Lying in a pool of his blood on the cold, stone slabs making up the floor of his cell, Bernado knew he was going to die. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have days to prepare for this outcome. He’d led them on a merry chase across the globe, from Mongolia to Tibet and through Ukraine before they finally caught up with him. Bernado didn’t blame the family who turned him into the Joint State Political Directorate, the organisation presently serving as Russia’s secret police, better known as the OGPU. With Stalin inflicting a genocidal famine on the region, why wouldn’t they sell him out for a belly full of food? 

How he came to be here, mattered little. He was here and at the mercy of men who used every method of torture they could imagine to break him, but Bernado had been Cristeros and was more than accustomed to persecution. Even in the dwindling hours of his life, God was with him, and so Bernado did not fear death. 

He lived a good life, full of victories and defeat. 

A soldier for the church after that devil Calles turned Mexico against all Catholics, he fought long and hard for God. When it was done, he left his country for good because he had become a father and needed to provide for his family. 

An old friend from the days when the Soviets courted Mexico openly, had come to him for help. Bernado met George Roerich at university and kept in touch through the years. Aware that Bernado was capable of staying one step ahead of hunters, George commissioned him to locate and retrieve an artifact his famous father, noted artist Nicolas Roerich, was forced to hide from the OGPU. The money was too good to turn down. 

Leaving Inez behind in Val Verde with their young son Roberto, his search took him across Asia, searching for an amulet gifted to Nicholas. The Tibetan amulet crafted from a piece of moldavite meteorite was deemed to be a talisman of some kind, capable of protecting its bearer from all harm. Considering where he found himself at present, Bernado begged to argue the veracity of that belief. 

Tracked by the ruthless members of the OGPU after he found the amulet, Bernado did the only thing he could when they closed in on him. Hide it. 

“You have one last chance Comrade Recillos to tell us what we wish to know.” 

Standing inside the small cell with two faceless uniforms, whose role Bernado knew was to ensure he made no attempt to attack the Colonel asking the question, Grigory Feduleev stared at him with ruthless calculation. Even though he was wearing a plain blue suit worn by any office worker, Colonel Fedulev was nothing so unimportant. Bernado knew he was a top party member and occupied a seat at the high table of the OGPU hierarchy. 

“I do not know what you want to hear,” Bernado offered the same response he had given them since his capture. “I buy antiquities for private collectors in America. I know nothing of the piece you speak.” 

Fedulev nodded at one of the men behind him and Bernado braced himself for a boot slamming into his side, breaking ribs as another burst of pain filled his body, and he uttered a weak cry. He had strength for little else. 

“Where is the amulet?” 

“As I said,” Bernado whispered, spitting blood as he lifted his chin and looked at Fedulev through blood swelled eyes. “I delivered it to my client via the mail. The address was a post office box in London.” 

“How disappointing,” Fedulev sighed. “I had hoped you would be reasonable, but no matter. I’m sure we will find it eventually.”

Fedulev stepped back and nodded once more at the soldier standing behind Bernado. 

Bernado closed his eyes and knew what was coming. Fedulev was no fool, the Colonel knew he would never reveal the truth, and with that, Bernado had outlived his usefulness. The man probably thought he was doing it out of some misplaced loyalty to George, but it was not that at all. In a moment of desperation which he now cursed himself for, Bernado sent the amulet to the one place he hoped these men would not think to look. 

To Inez. 

With any luck, she would think of it as a gift from some exotic place in the world, a poor substitute for the husband who promised to come home with enough money to set them up, but would instead leave her a widow. His heart ached, knowing he would never see her or their son again. He only hoped she would forgive him. 

It was the last thought he had before the bullet ended him. 

Colonel Grigory Fedulev watched dispassionately as Bernado Recillos, on his hands and knees already, flopped against the stone floor. The slab beneath his face was splattered with gore and blood, and his left leg twitched once before going still for good. 

“What now, Colonel?” Lt. Oblonksy, Bernado’s executioner asked, stepping away from the dead man as the remaining soldier in the room proceeded to remove the body.

“We will retrace our steps and learn everything about Mr Recillos. I do not think he had the opportunity to deliver it to Comrade Roerich before we reached him.”

“Then where is it?” The younger man, a tall, broad-shouldered specimen with Magyar origins, looked down at him in question. 

“I do not know,” Fedeluv confessed, “but have patience Oblonsky, it will turn up eventually, and when it does, we will have it _and_ the Jewel.” 


	2. Outback

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that I have taken some liberties with the mythology of the Australian Aborigines. It is not meant to offend.

**ULURU  
** **AUSTRALIAN OUTBACK  
1935**

Vin Tanner was by no means a spiritual man, but he liked to think he and God had an understanding.

As a child, he believed in the Almighty, and though he spoke of it to no one, not even Josiah, his fondest memories of Emma Tanner was her fussing over him as she readied them to go to Sunday Services. Those memories were now vague, but he still remembered her smile when she helped him with the buttons of his shirt, straightened his bow tie and combed his hair. At church, he’d listen to the preacher and his sermons, understanding little of it but happy just to be there with her.

After she died and he was discarded into the overworked foster system, the so-called ‘Christian’ administrators chose to beat God into him so severely, he fled the first chance he got. Vin didn’t hate God then, but he did have questions about why the Almighty chose to take his momma away. God didn’t answer, and Vin was on the road to believing he never existed to begin with, just some fiction adults made up to make themselves better when bad things happened.

On the Western Front, when he wandered into the trenches, covered in mud, shit and blood, realising he’d left one hell behind for something even worse, Vin prayed to God for deliverance. He prayed hard, even though he expected no answer. God hadn’t granted him the wish to bring back his mother, why would he provide deliverance to a stupid kid who made a monumentally bad decision? Scared out of his mind, Vin didn’t expect an answer.

Except one came.

It came in the form of a just turned twenty lieutenant with dark blond hair and an icy stare that cut through you like a knife. When Vin laid eyes on the man, Vin was sure he was going to be sent back to the orphanage. Instead, Chris Larabee took a good long look at Vin before cracking his glacial mask with a smile and reassuring him without a word spoken, everything would be all right.

_“It’s okay kid, I got you.”_

After that, Vin understood God was around. He even sent help when he could, but it was a good idea to help yourself in case he couldn’t.

When Vin jumped off that train, taking him across New Mexico, he wandered the desert alone until Kojay found him and gave him sanctuary on the Navajo Reservation. For the next few years, Kojay taught him that God wore lots of faces and when he stared into the skies at night, seeing the wondrous canvas of stars above, it almost felt like Vin could reach him.

Until he came to this place.

It wasn’t quite dusk yet, but the blue sky had become the most vibrant sapphire he’d ever seen, with the sun brushing the horizon with strokes of amber as it descended. The land was flat as a tack with only one rock formation comparable in size to some of the more massive mesas he’d seen in his life. The white man in this country called it Ayers Rock, but its actual name according to the Pitjantjatjara people or Anangu who occupied the land, was Uluru. Vin liked their version better.

Sitting on top of it, Vin wondered if this formation was the real altar of God.

He imagined the Almighty or the Rainbow Serpent as the Pitjantjatjara called him, coming down here to observe his handiwork. With the stars appearing in the shifting sky, Vin soaked the transcendent atmosphere, communing with it on a most spiritual level. He wondered if this splendour was one of those soft places medicine men spoke of, where the walls of reality were translucent and if you wanted, you could slip through.

If he reached up, would he touch heaven?

“Any sign of them?”

Josiah Sanchez asked after setting down his book _Native Legends_ , unable to continue reading with the diminishing light. He’d been studying the books written by their client David Unaipon and learned to his disgust, the Australian Aborigines had been treated almost as horrifically as the Native Americans. Driven to the brink of genocide, their lands stolen, and their children taken away to be given Christian upbringings, it was no wonder why their client had set them on their current adventure.

None of the seven had been to Australia before this, but Professor Orin Travis’s friendship with old colleague Herbert Basedow had facilitated the meeting with Unaipon. Upon listening to his story, Chris had agreed on their behalf to take the job, with only their expenses paid. While it wasn’t usually their practice to be so charitable, Chris knew his friends would be willing to make an exception for the Professor. Each and every one of them was indebted to Orin Travis. He had raised them all from the dark place they had been at the onset of the Depression.

“Of Chris or any of those interested parties Mr Unaipon mentioned?” Vin drawled, his keen eyes surveying the landscape at Josiah’s behest.

“Both,” Josiah stated, reaching for the FN M2HB machine gun next to him.

“No sign of anything,” Vin answered and hoped the rumours Roderick Packard, a financier who wasn’t above hiring mercenaries to collect objects of interests, were just that. “I sure would hate to start a gunfight here. Feels kind of wrong, you know?”

Josiah agreed, sweeping his gaze across the landscape and getting lost in its beauty as well. Like Vin, Josiah had a complicated relationship with God, but he understood the younger man’s sentiments. There was a mystical quality about this land, one that made you feel your soul was not some new thing, but an ancient component from a galaxy of life force, given flesh and blood form for a brief time on this plane. Josiah wouldn’t like to commit an act as vulgar as firing a weapon up here.

As it was, the rock was sacred, and the climbing of it was considered disrespectful by its people. Josiah suspected the only reason the seven were allowed permission was because they were not of the tribe. Furthermore, with what they were tasked to do, the trespass was a necessary evil.

“You think they’ll come?” Vin asked.

“Yeah,” Josiah nodded grimly, “if it can be stolen, taken apart, and sold to the highest bidder, they’ll come.”

* * *

“Don’t touch anything.”

Chris Larabee tossed the warning over his shoulder at JD Dunne who was following him down the narrow fissure flanking them on each side. The space they were travelling in was barely a tunnel, tilted at a steep downward incline of almost 45 degrees, with fists sized rocks broken and sharp covering the ground. The sandstone walls were no better with their uneven formations scratching at both men as they made the descent into the darkness.

The air had yet to get thin, but they would be descending more than a mile through the earth before they finally reached their destination.

“I won’t,” JD nodded, perfectly aware that all Australian fauna seemed to want to kill you in the most horrible ways.

As usual, the young scholar conducted his research on the country when they’d accepted the commission to come here. What he learned of the wildlife scared JD enough to demand Nathan Jackson stock three times worth of everything in his first aid kit. With his torch in hand, JD lit up every surface, determined not to get killed by some tiny creature no sane person would think was dangerous, because they underestimated it.

“I mean everything kills you here!” JD continued, his voice echoing through the narrow passage. “They’ve got the deadliest snakes in the world! The taipan that likes deserts, not to mention the brown snake and the tiger snake! Did I tell you about their spiders? Almost every one of them can kill you. Redbacks, wolf spiders, funnel webs, and there’s one that makes your flesh rot away after it bites you. You’re not much safer in the water either. There’s the great white shark, they can grow up to 25 feet, salt-water crocodiles that chase you in the water and then out of it! Blue ring octopuses, jellyfish and stonefish.”

Chris glanced over his shoulder again. “Should I have left you on the Millie, JD?”

JD straightened up at that, realising he was getting carried away with his anxieties at that question. “No, I want to come. I’m just saying...”

“Just take it easy,” Chris assured him. “We’ve handled worse than bugs and snakes, and we’re nowhere near an ocean.”

JD had to admit Chris was right about that. After fighting a gorgon, outrunning Nazis and other death cults, they were still alive with their skins intact. He had to have faith in that. Besides, what they were doing mattered and JD didn’t want to let Chris down because he was getting a little paranoid at the possibility that every single creature on this continent was out to get them.

Even if it was true.

“Sorry Chris,” JD apologised.

Chris hadn’t really been bothered by JD’s rants, more concerned with the kid driving himself crazy with the potential of certain death jumping out from every corner. The leader of the Seven had travelled to enough tropical locations with similar perils since he started artifact hunting, to trouble himself too much with JD’s report. There would always be dangerous creatures wherever they went, one just had to exercise caution.

“It’s okay,” Chris remarked with a little smile as they continued their descent.

The temperature was starting to rise, which was saying something considering how hot it could get in this country. Chris could feel beads of sweat forming under his hair and against his back. He was also conscious of their air supply, aware the deeper they went underground, the thinner it would be. Fortunately, Chris and Vin had made this journey a day ago, trying to determine what kind of equipment they would need to acquire the artifact located here. So far, there had been nothing to imply they were in any danger, but vigilance was never a waste of time.

“You think it's really there?”

“The Wanambi Shield? The Anangu seem to think so.” Chris paused a moment and reached for the canteen hooked to his belt. Unscrewing the top, he took a swig of water, relishing the cool as it journeyed down his throat.

The shield, supposedly crafted by the great Snake King Wanambi, was fashioned from a solid block of opal when he descended from his watering hole on the peak of Kata Tjuta, another formation not far from Uluru. The Anangu believed the Snake King used the shield to protect the world from hurricanes and other natural calamities and remaining on sacred Anangu land was necessary for it to continue. With most of their cultural artifacts already plundered by unscrupulous men such as Roderick Packard, the need to protect the shield became paramount. Unfortunately, the Anangu were forbidden to touch the shield which left them with quite the predicament.

Thus it was up to the Seven to retrieve the shield and return it to Anangu, who would use a trusted outsider to hide it away again. This time in a place no one would find it. Unfortunately, a large block of opal was bound to attract the interest of men who would be happy to break it up into smaller pieces for profit. Chris knew there were unscrupulous collectors like bored tycoons, museums and even Nazis, who kept mercenaries on the payroll to steal such artifacts for their own end.

Not if he could help it.

“I suppose it would be easier to believe if we had some archaeological evidence of its existence,” JD confessed.

“The Anangu don’t work that way,” Chris replied, understanding JD’s frustration. “Their people don’t rely on the written word to remember their past, they use oral histories. If the first Europeans who got here bothered to ask, the Aborigines could have given them a geographical map of the entire continent, without them having to explore it by land. Tribes that ran into each other felt it was necessary to share their knowledge, so an aboriginal tribe could have information about another region thousands of miles away without ever setting foot there.”

“I suppose,” JD shrugged, supposing his love of written language was why he loved this work so much. The hours he spent pouring through ancient tablets, old books yellowed with age, written with reeds or styluses was a source of endless fascination to him. “I guess I prefer to have something in my hands that doesn’t change with the telling.”

“I know what you mean, but every culture has its ways, the Anangu are no different.”

As they descended, the air began to feel moist and humid, with green vegetation appearing along the walls of the tunnel. No doubt the moisture in the air had provided the bryophytes with the perfect environment to thrive. Moss crept along the walls, along with lichens, following them down the further they went. The air had started to thin even more, and Chris suspected they could breathe because the presence of the moss had circulated the air somewhat.

After long last, they reached the end of the tunnel into the vast chamber Chris and Vin had charted the day before. Its size was immense and looking at it, reminded Chris of the enormous underground sea the Seven had travelled during their quest to find the Aegis. The leader of the seven prayed this adventure would be nowhere as eventful. Although like that chamber, the moss growing across the ceiling had some bioluminescent qualities as is revealed in glorious detail, the underground artesian basin he and JD had come all this way to reach.

“Now that is something,” JD gasped, staring at the underground sea before them.

“No kidding,” Chris echoed his sentiments since it was not too different from Vin’s reaction the day before. “Covers almost 22 per cent of the country’s underbelly and is more than 600,000 square miles across. They say it's almost ten thousand feet deep. The Aussies get most of their inland water supply from this.”

“How far through it do we have to go?” JD asked as he saw Chris walked towards the edge, removing the backpack he had been carrying all this way. The younger man followed his leader, remembering that they weren’t here to sightsee. There was a job to be done.

“According to the Anangu, once we pass into the Dreaming.” Chris grinned, aware JD would hate that answer.

“What does _that_ mean?” JD stared at him.

“It means we’ll just have to see,” Chris replied, removing the inflatable raft from his pack and began unrolling it so they could put it to use. JD did the same, except the scholar was carrying the oars, crisscrossed against his back.

The thing had been burdensome, but the load was reduced by their downhill trek, and Chris didn’t intend to carry the _Societe Zodiac_ inflatable kayak uphill after they had retrieved the shield. No doubt Ezra, their procurer would bitch about abandoning it after all the trouble he’d gone through to acquire the equipment. However, if Ezra wanted it so bad, he could come down here and retrieve it himself.

It didn’t take long for them to inflate the two-man kayak and set out across the dark water. Leaving behind the shore, Chris looked ahead at the cavern and saw nothing to indicate where the shield might be. JD was studying his notes, having written down everything the Anangu told them about this leg of their journey. The tribal elder he spoke to hadn’t been particularly helpful, citing ‘they would know the place, and the place would know them when the time was right’.

Neither Chris nor JD noticed the slight ripple following their craft in the darkness.

* * *

_My dear Julia,_

_As always when I pen this missive to you, I am thinking of how long it has been since we last saw each other and hope you are taking all precaution when parlaying with the nefarious folk it is your lot in life to engage. For my part, we have travelled to the other side of the globe in search of an object whose existence can only be substantiated by the tales told by the tribe holding it in reverence. I hope we have not made this arduous trek to discover this was not the product of a practical joke told by one drunken fellow to another, and passed on in perpetuity...”_

_BUH BUH BUH BUH!_

Ezra lowered his pen and looked up, seeking out the source of that odd noise that sounded like the sputter of an emptying sink. He was seated on a slab of rock, just flat enough to be a comfortable place to sit, his Colt handgun beside him while he waited for Chris and JD to conduct their hunt for the shield. It was almost approaching night, and though Ezra didn’t voice it, he suspected they might have slipped beneath Mr Packard’s notice in this instance.

_SNUF SNUF SNUF SNUF!_

Ezra stood up and looked around, seeing nothing but a small ringed lizard take up position next to his leather satchel, its nictitating eyes blinking twice before sticking out a blue tongue at the gambler. Looking around, Ezra heard more of those odds noises, wondering what on Earth was causing them. Both sounds were different, one more like a drumbeat, the other like snuffling one might hear from pigs. Surely they couldn’t be from the same animal?

Reaching for his gun, he used his other hand to return his writing implements to the satchel, while keeping his attention focussed on the alien environment. The noises seemed to be growing louder. Worse yet, they were now joined by what appeared to be pounding footsteps, _a lot_ of them. As alarm ran through him, Ezra wondered how Vin and Josiah had missed anything making that much noise closing in on them.

A second later, he had his answer. 

* * *

**ONE MINUTE EARLIER**

“Where’s Ezra?” Buck asked Nathan as they started a campfire near the Millie, deciding the evening was just warm and pretty enough for it.

“Oh he says he’s keeping watch,” Nathan replied as he added the kindling to the woodpile. “But I think he’s writing Miss Julia another letter.”

“How does he even post them?” Buck asked he added the coffee grounds to the pot of water that would sit over the fire. “I mean, she’s a secret agent. It’s not like she has a permanent address.”

“Oh, they go to Julia’s momma in England,” Nathan explained just as he reached for his matches now the wood was ready to burn. “Her stepdad gets it to her.”

Buck response was interrupted by the rumble of pounding feet and a cacophony of odd sounds accompanying it. All of a sudden they saw Ezra running towards them, the gambler moving faster than either man had ever seen him move, at least without jungle Indians or sex-starved Nordic warrior women chasing him.

“RUN! THEY’RE RIGHT BEHIND ME!”

“What’s right behind you?” Nathan shouted back.

The birds, flightless, stood at least five feet tall with grey feathers and sharped three-toed claws capable of eviscerating their prey. Whatever it was Ezra had done to piss them off, the entire flock was chasing after the gambler who was keeping ahead of the creatures by a hair’s breadth. There were at least fifteen of them, running with speeds that would make any cheetah envious and it was clear, they were more than a match for Ezra’s sprint.

“Oh shit!” Buck swore and decided running was not a bad idea.

“Can’t you use your animal magnetism on them!” Nathan shouted as he left behind the campsite and made a run for Millie. “Oh yeah, it ain’t working these days, right!”

“This is not the time to bring up Inez!” Buck cursed as all three men raced towards the plane.

* * *

“Should we help them?” Josiah inquired, trying to hold a straight face as he and Vin watched the spectacle below as a flock of emus chased the three men across the desert. 

The sharpshooter tossed Josiah a grin, “now what fun would that be?”


	3. Guardians

Entirely oblivious to their comrades' avian experience, Chris Larabee and JD Dunne continued their journey through the underground lake, far beneath the red sand of the Australian Outback. The bioluminescent vegetation creeping across the ceiling and the walls of the underground basin provided them with some illumination as they paddled forward, carried along by slow-moving currents. A light mist swirled around them, generated by the varying temperatures in the reservoir of groundwater. 

"This is really something," JD commented, admiring the vastness of the basin. "You know all this stretches across 600 thousand square miles. You could fit the whole of Texas in here." 

"Don't say that to Vin. You know how crazy Texans are," Chris warned as he paddled, more interested in what lay ahead. The strobe of the torch only reached so far, and he could see nothing beyond it except more water. The Anangu were understandably vague about just how long they would have to travel to reach the shield and Chris supposed he could sympathise with their reluctance to trust him and his team. After what they'd been subjected to, much like the tribes of North America, it couldn't be easy placing their faith in a white man to recover a sacred artifact. 

JD laughed before aiming his torch at his notes again. Even though the young man possessed a near-photographic memory, he still preferred referring to his notebook. Perhaps it was the feel of paper and the smell of ink that reassured him they weren't on some wild goose chase but something based on tangible facts. Right now, he felt like they were at the bottom of the world, where they could die of toxic air long before they reach the Snake king's shield.

"Well, according to the Anangu, we have to keep going until we find the Island of Kalpurtu's tears." 

"The Rain Spirit," Kris nodded, having read up on as many of the Aboriginal Dreamtime legends as he could before their arrival here. While the tribes themselves relied on oral histories to pass down their stories, European scholars were more traditional in their methods, recording the stories which were unique from tribe to tribe. It was one of the more distinct cultures the treasure hunter had ever encountered, and Kris wondered if it was due to how isolated they were from the rest of the world for much of their history. 

"Yeah, that's it," JD continued to speak. "It's apparently guarded by the Ancient Guardians, who pays tribute to the Rainbow Serpent by sending him the spirits of the unworthy who try to claim Wanambi's shield." 

"Ancient Guardians?" Kris paid attention. After five years of doing this, there was always something to such warnings, whether it was strange and deadly booby traps left by the original architects, or creatures lying in wait, cloaked in modern disbelief until the final terrifying moment. "Like what?" 

"Who knows?" JD shrugged. "I mean these stories are passed on from person to person, so who knows how accurate any of it is? All I heard was the Ancient Guardians have been protecting Wanambi's shield since they were granted favours from the Rainbow Serpent. There is no record of what kind of creatures they were, except when it came time to be rewarded, they didn't want to be men. Still, he wanted to reward them, so he made them bigger and stronger than any of the animals here and gave them the title of guardians."

"BIgger and stronger," Chris frowned. "That's never a good sign." 

The leader of the seven straightened up and scanned the area, trying to detect anything that could be dangerous. The mist covered the area around the raft, making it difficult to see. Aside from the sloshing of water against the side of the rubble inflatable and the dark walls of the underground cavern, there was no other sound. When the fog cleared enough for him to see the surface, he noticed a slight ripple in the water from the currents below, not unusual considering how much geothermal activity was taking place down here. Yet after JD's warning, Chris's internal alarms were warning him to be cautious.

With no trace of immediate danger, Chris faced front again, continuing their journey through this underground sea. Looking over his shoulder, the shore they left behind was no longer in sight, and he hoped this place didn't turn into a maze because he did not relish getting lost down here. After what JD said about how the size of the Great Artesian Basin, they could be wandering here for God only knew how long and he had plans with Mary when he got back to Albuquerque. 

The jolt almost made him drop the paddle in his grip. 

It came so suddenly that both men stopped what they were doing immediately. JD quickly stashed the notebook back into his pocket while Kris waved his arms about, trying to sweep away the fog so they could see what caused the sudden turbulence. For a few seconds, they waited for another recurrence. The seconds stretched into a minute, and Chris wondered if they had just bumped into some underwater formation by accident. 

Another jab followed, this time more violent. It startled JD enough to grip the sides of the raft while Chris set down the paddle and unholstered his gun. He didn't know what was beneath them, but he suspected it was poking and prodding the inflatable with curiosity, trying to feel them out. 

"Give me the torch," Chris ordered JD as he leaned over the edge, trying to see past those swirls of grey at what might be trying to tip them over.

"You don't think its really some ancient guardian?" The kid asked as he handed Kris the torch. 

"I don't know," Chris replied, searching the water for whatever was attacking their raft. "Has anything we gone after, ever not turned out to be a little real?" 

The possibility made JD shudder because in the past year he'd seen a lot of strange things. Gorgons, ancient Mesopotamian goddesses, sirens and zombies, just to name a few. Ancient guardians could mean anything, but with the kinds of creatures roaming about this continent, JD suspected what awaited them in the depths was not pleasant. He was shaken out of his current train of thought by another sharp jab, this one lifting the raft above the surface just high enough for it to slap back down hard, splashing them with water and nearly sending Chris over.

"CHRIS!" JD grabbed him by the belt to keep him from hitting the surface. 

"Thanks," Chris tossed the younger man a grateful look. 

Beneath them, the water had started to froth, and the spray chased away the mist surrounding the raft. Chris aimed the torch at the surface just in time for something huge to swim past the beam of light. His spine stiffened as he measured the length of the creature's body before it disappeared out of view. At first, he thought it was one of those crocodiles Australia was famous for. However, this was bigger. 

Much, much bigger.

"JD," Chris said in a neutral voice trying not to show the kid just how worried he was about what just swam beneath them. "Hold on!"

JD quickly wrapped his arm around the bowline of the raft at the order as the jostling resumed, this time with more intensity. Equipment was starting to slide across the narrow floor of the raft, others shuddered where they had been placed, threatening to fall out entirely. He watched as Chris scanned the water, wondering what on Earth the leader of the Seven had seen to make him so fearful. 

The creature came for another pass, and this time, Chris wasn't about to give it the chance to attack. Taking aim with his gun, he waited until that silvery body passed through the beam of light. He squeezed off three shots in quick succession, and the sound was like cannon fire inside the cavernous underground. It was nowhere as startling as what rose from out of the depths a split second after the first bullet struck. 

When it emerged, all Chris and JD saw were teeth.

Lots of teeth. Its mouth resembled that of a crocodile, with three inches of serrated, conical teeth on its mandible and upper jaw. When its tail appeared, Chris was able to estimate this ancient beast was almost thirty-six feet long. It did not take kindly to being shot at and lunged at the raft, prepared to take a bite. With only a split second to react, Chris took aim and fired again, praying he either killed the creature or sent it into retreat. One thing for sure, there was no way they could let it deflate the raft.

The second barrage of bullets produced a shriek of pain from the creature, and Chris thought he saw the bullets tearing through its thick hide. Its head reared up, allowing both JD and Chris to see the pale flesh of its underside before it vanished into the water once more. Still, the turbulence beneath the raft was a clear indicator the creature was not gone, merely regrouping. 

"What the hell is that?" JD managed to ask, having retrieved his own gun and scanning the other side of the raft in case the creature attempted to come at them from a different direction. 

"I think it's a kronosaurus!" Chris yelled over the sound of splashing water and the boat's precarious rocking. " _Kronosaurus queenslandicus_ was discovered in the 1800s." 

JD's eyes widened. "A dinosaur! That thing is a dinosaur?" 

"This basin was formed 120 million years ago," Chris returned, deciding they needed something a little more formidable to fight the saurian when it came back. "Plenty of time for one or more of those things to get isolated down here!"

The idea of a living fossil existing this far down would have usually been a source of great excitement to the young man. Still, having seen those teeth, JD's scientific sensibilities was overtaken by the desire for survival. Just as the thought crossed his mind, he saw the silvery body moving beneath the raft. JD was about to call a warning to Chris when the rubber beneath him heaved, throwing JD off his feet and into the air. 

"JD!" 

Chris watched JD disappear into the black water and knew the kid was dead unless he thought fast. His gun seemed woefully inadequate to the task of ending the ancient pliosaur, and though he hated to kill it, he was not about to let it eat JD. Buck would never forgive him, and Chris wouldn't be able to live with himself either. Suddenly, inspiration struck, and Chris quickly grabbed the small case that came with the raft. Earlier on, he'd debated why he'd took the thing but was thankful for it now. 

Snatching the case up in his arms, Chris quickly flipped the lid open and retrieved what was nestled inside. He had one shot at this, and as he straightened up and saw JD emerging from the water, swimming frantically towards the raft for dear life, he could see the utter terror in the boy's face. Breaking the surface behind him was the wounded kronosaur, about to take a bite. Its massive head and mouth widened in readiness to devour JD when Chris made his desperate gamble. 

The flare gun fired, sending the magnesium-based payload into the creature's open mouth. Brilliant white light filled the creature's mouth, making Chris wince at the glare as the flare began to burn. The ancient predator managed a roar of pain, tossing its head from side to side as the pyrotechnics continue to hiss, capable of surviving even as water sloshed into the creature's mouth. The dinosaur forgot all about JD and dove, the glow from the flare visible as it disappeared into the depths. 

Chris scrambled towards JD who did not waste the time Chris afforded him with the flare gun. He was halfway into the raft, fighting to gain traction on the slippery rubber surface when Chris reached him and pulled him the rest of the way. JD tumbled clumsily against the slick floor, panting hard and grateful to be alive. He could imagine nothing worse than being ripped to shred by those teeth.

"You okay?" The leader of the seven was trying to spot the creature and hoped the flare had caused enough injury to the animal to either kill it or drive it away for now. 

"I told you," JD said coughing, wiping the wet from his forehead, "everything in this country wants to kill you!" 

Chris couldn't argue with him there.

* * *

While it had been amusing to watch his three friends running from a flock of overgrown turkeys, Vin Tanner's amusement came to an abrupt halt when he heard a noise. Something was rumbling across the Outback landscape. To the untrained ear, it sounded like the propellers of a plane, starting and stopping at intervals of a few seconds. With Buck presently running towards the Millie's open door, that was an impossibility. 

"What is that?" Josiah asked, attracted to the sound as well. 

"Trouble." Vin retrieved the spyglass from his pack and aimed it in the distance.

During Chris's meeting with their client David Unaipon, the seven spent some time with the Anangu people. Vin found their culture fascinating and absorbed everything he could about them. He made a mental note to visit again in the future. Like the Navajo, the Anangu's culture was steep in tradition, and their reputation as the best trackers in the world was not to be underestimated. Some thought the Aborigines were telepathic due to their uncanny tracking ability. While Vin did not subscribe to any of this, he was impressed enough to wish to learn more. 

One of the things shown to him was the device the tribe used to communicate over long distances, the bullroarer. Little more than an elongated piece of carved bark bound with a length of thin cord, it could produce the haunting sound Vin now heard when spun. It was used during rituals and ceremonies, and Vin suspected he could only listen to it now, because the Anangu were trying to send him a message, or worse yet, a warning. 

Staring through the eye of the spyglass, Vin surveyed the surrounding terrain trying to spot any signs of danger. The Anangu didn't use a bullroarer lightly. The device was generally used in tribal ceremonies and forbidden to women. They had been squirrelly enough just describing its use to him. If they were using it now, then they must have a good reason for it.

It turns out they did. 

Through the telescopic lens of the spyglass, Vin sighted at least two vehicles approaching from a north-easterly direction, using the meandering dirt road through the forest of gum trees and short burn grass. They rumbled across the red gravel, creating clouds of dust as they sped toward the great rock. Only when they got closer, Vin identified the twin Wills-Overlander pick-ups, carrying two passengers up front and a half dozen more in the back tray.

These were Packard's men, bought and paid for, probably flown in from the nearest large town, Alice Springs. 

From what they were told from Ezra's numerous contacts, Roderick Packard was an arms merchant. Following the crash of '29, Packard changed the fortunes of his company by abandoning its tool and die origins and taking up arms production instead. He was rumoured to be instrumental to Aufrüstung, the rearmament of Germany against the Treaty of Versaille, carrying out the manufacturing outside Germany and in secret. 

Ezra called the man a butcher who was sharpening a knife to be used on the world. 

As a result, Packard was now a millionaire and able to satisfy his predilection for rare antiquities. 

While this was their first run-in with Packard, other folk in their line of work had violent confrontations with the man and his cohorts. Packard was ruthless when acquiring artifacts, and he had enough money to ensure he got whatever he went after. Vin didn't have to see their faces to guess the men on those trucks were most likely mercenaries and would kill every one of them, including the tribe, to get what they want.

"We got company!" Vin revealed when he lowered the spyglass.

Josiah followed Vin's gaze and sighted the vehicles surrounded by the cloud of red dust. It seemed the Anangu had been right to worry about the shield of the Snake King Wanambi after all.

"Guess the Lord decided we were getting too comfortable up here," Josiah grumbled as he saw Vin setting himself up at a sweet spot to give the new arrivals a proper greeting.

"I reckon so. You want to let Buck, Ezra and Nathan know we got company, while I say hello to these boys?" 

"I think I can handle that," Josiah nodded and got to his feet before he was running across the plateau to warn their friends to be ready for a more dangerous animal than the emus presently attempting to corral them.

* * *

BOOM!

The first bullet fired from the M1 Garand rifle froze everyone in their tracks, human and emu alike. 

Everyone stood frozen in place as the thunderclap startled them out of their present situation. The avians came to an abrupt halt, having enough experience with the noise to associate it with pain and death. They ceased their pursuit and lingered for a few seconds, with feathers ruffled, heads bobbing in anxiety while a few brave males stamped their feet. The gunshot had not only brought the sudden cessation of hostilities to a close but also made audible the bullroarer's warning. 

All three men were armed and had been heading toward the Millie to avoid drawing their weapons on the formidable flock of native birds. Emus were curious more than they were savage and didn't deserve to be gunned down because of it. Furthermore, the treasure hunters had been attempting to conduct themselves discreetly in this expedition and discharging weapons was a surefire sign alerting anyone in the area to their presence. Of course, this was now a moot point. 

"WE'VE GOT COMPANY!" 

Josiah shouted at them from the top of the rock. His booming voice, the bullroarer's whirring and gunfire was all the commotion the emus were prepared to deal with at this point. The ungainly creatures decided it was time to retreat. They departed, uttering their annoyance with their odd drumbeat voices, heading away from the off-putting din.

"Now why didn't you think of that?" Nathan asked, catching his breath a moment now they had stopped running, a few feet shy of the Millie's main doors. 

"Because the last time anyone attempted to subdue these creatures, it resulted in the Emu War," Ezra explained with both hands on his hips. "You should read what the locals endured with these large avians. Not even men armed with machine guns were able to defeat them. We were fortunate, they did not break up into packs, each with a commander engaging in guerilla tactics." 

"So, sort of like Chris," Nathan grinned.

"I dare you to reveal that observation to our illustrious leader," Ezra bit back, unhappy because he was just as dishevelled as Nathan and he prided himself in always looking pristine, even in these Outback surroundings. 

"Will you two ladies get moving!" Buck barked with exasperation as he climbed on top of the Millie's wing to see what was coming at them.

It did not take Buck long to sight the enemy on approach. Even from this distance, Buck could tell they meant business. The ladies man was just about to climb down when another crack of gunfire exploded in his ears. 

The second bullet fired from Vin's rifle struck one of the trucks, because the vehicle tilted sharply to one side when its tyre ruptured. Black rubber was quickly shredded by the rims as the driver struggled to maintain control of the truck until a two-foot-high boulder in its path tipped it over all the way. All passengers in the back tray were flung clear of the vehicle, tumbling across the burnt grass like rolling dervishes. Meanwhile, the other truck continued to narrow the distance between them, with its passengers returning fire.

Buck leapt off the Millie's wing, taking cover behind the plane as he saw Ezra and Nathan retreating to the base of Uluru, with its cover providing boulders and high ground. If they could gain that advantage, Buck knew they could keep the enemy at bay long enough for Chris to retrieve the Shield of the Snake King. 


	4. Subterranean

Less than thirty minutes after being thrown into the same water occupied by a prehistoric monster, JD Dunne wished he was back in the depths once more. 

There was no sign of the kronosaurus Kris so effectively chased off with a flare gun. However, when the inflatable continued to be carried further into the Artesian well, JD began to understand why. The temperature was starting to climb. When they first entered the cavern, they assumed the warmth was due to the hot springs originating from this basin. Still, as they travelled deeper underground, it became clear the heat would continue to rise until the sulphur suffocated them or cooked them alive. 

Even now, JD could smell heated rubber as the inflatable struggled to withstand the rising temperature. His clothes had dried and then become saturated again by the sweat forming against his skin. His eyes stung with the salty moisture running down his back, through his hair and down his forehead. The leader of the seven didn't appear to notice the heat, although Chris's shirt was plastered to his body, and his favourite black hat was hanging across his back. 

JD glanced over the side of the raft and saw the water bubbling lethargically, producing periodic bursts of sulphuric air. It wasn't hard to breathe yet, but even JD knew they were approaching that limit. He supposed he ought to be grateful the plesiosaur was nowhere in sight. These waters were probably warm even with the creature's formidable tolerance.

"Chris," JD finally had to ask. "How long can we keep this up?" 

Chris frowned, having considered that himself. As much as he would like to claim the shield for their client and the Anangu people, the truth was, it might not be possible for them to keep going. Water tapped from this underwater reservoir was known to hit 100 degrees when drawn from the ground. It stood to reason if they ventured deeper into it, the temperature would increase, beyond the ability of human tolerance. How it had been brought down here in the first place was a question Chris would like answered, but they had only oral histories to guide them which were not entirely reliable. 

"Not for much longer," Chris finally admitted. Right now, the heat was just uncomfortable, but soon it would become life-threatening. "We'll keep going another thirty minutes. If it gets any warmer, we're heading back. If we can't get through, I don't think the tribe's gotta worry about anyone else trying to snatch the shield either." 

"That's something," JD shrugged, hating that they might have to give up the idea of retrieving the artifact. They almost always got what they went after, but on occasion, it was simply too difficult. With the temperature continuing to soar the further they travelled, it would only be a matter of time before the heat drove them back.

The water beneath them continued to churn with Chris paying particular attention to the vulcanized rubber, hoping the heat didn't soften it too much to make it impossible for them to remain afloat. Chris knew the instant he saw any sign of increased elasticity, this expedition was over. The comforting turgidity of the raft, keeping the treasure hunters afloat was diminishing rapidly. No artifact was worth risking JD's life. Despite hating to disappoint their client, he had no intention of risking his men on a fool's errand because of stubborn pride. The stench gaining intensity in his nostrils was no longer the sulphuric familiarity of rotten eggs but burnt rubber. 

"Chris!" 

Chris looked over his shoulder, expecting some fresh calamity, but instead of darkness and certain death, what lay ahead of him made him gape with the same surprise he detected in JD's voice. Less than fifty feet away and rapidly closing, was a small island. It was little more than a jagged protrusion of rock peering above the waves, but they managed to see it because directly above it was a teeming shower of water illuminated by the sunlight it drew through the tiny cracks in the ceiling. The hairline fissures were just wide enough for water to pass and provided the island with an unearthly glow. 

"It's an aquifer layer. That's how water is reaching this place through the surface." Chris explained as best he could, but he was no geologist and supposed there might be a more sophisticated answer. For now, however, he was convinced this was the place they were intended to find. "Come on, help me paddle." 

Both men picked up the oars and began steering the craft towards the scab of rock, eager to reach it quickly if only to give the rubber raft a brief respite from the rapidly heating water. If the shield was here, then they might be able to get back to the shore without compromising the raft any further. After seeing what lurked in the depths, Chris had no desire to swim for it. He suspected neither he nor JD would make it to shore alive. 

"How do you think it got down here, Chris?" JD asked as they closed in on the rocky shore. 

As they neared it, Chris observed the jagged ring of stones they would have to take great care climbing over, because a slip could crack their heads open with ease.

"Probably the same way we did. Although I liked to know how they got past that damn lizard." 

"Maybe they had a bigger boat," JD pointed out and stopped paddling when the raft finally reached the short stretch of shore made of smooth pebbles. 

Chris got out first, not about to let JD step foot on this place until he knew it was safe. The cracks of light from above provided them with just enough illumination to create shadows everywhere. The air was still hot, but everything about the island looked cold and foreboding. Ensuring his gun was tucked in its shoulder holster, Chris gestured at JD to wait. The young man immediately frowned at the order to stay behind but nevertheless obeyed. 

The island was no more than fifty feet across, although the high rock walls made it seem more extensive. Thanks to the moisture dripping from above, the sweltering heat had been blunted, and Chris looked up at the pinpricks of sunlight telling him there was a world outside as it sprinkled over him. The only signs of life were the patches of moss growing on the boulders and rocks, but nothing else stirred. For a few seconds, Chris relished the water on his skin, feeling mildly refreshed after the suffocating heat and the hellish stench of sulphur. 

"Come on JD," Chris gave the younger man permission to step out of the boat. 

Like Chris, JD was happy to bask in the spray from above, but he was eager to join Chris and didn't waste any time emerging from the inflatable kayak. He stepped onto the rocky terrain, taking care not to slip on the wet stones as he carried their gear. Chris was making his way up the slope when JD spotted something when the light of his torch swept across something, partially hidden by a cluster of larger pebbles. 

"Chris, wait up," JD called as he went to investigate. One thing he had learned since becoming a member of Chris Larabee's team of relic hunters, it was never to underestimate the value of seemingly unimportant observations. 

"What is it?" Chris paused in mid-step and looked over his shoulder. Despite his being at a higher elevation than JD, he could not see what caught the younger man's interest. 

"I'm not sure," JD took the slight detour, convinced his torch had caught sight of something that shouldn't be here. Gravel crunched beneath his boot while he took care navigating this uneven terrain, he aimed his flashlight at what he had found, determined not to get caught unawares. In the background, he heard Chris descending the slope and joining him as he closed in on his discovery. 

It was a boat. 

Made of bark, it was so fragile he was reluctant to touch it in case it fell apart at the contact. Moisture and heat had hastened the deterioration of the wood, and JD couldn't imagine how long it had been down here. It could be for hundreds of years! Inside the long, narrow kayak, covered in mould were hunting tools, and an empty wallaby-skin water carrier. JD identified axes and spear throwers but noted the absence of any clubs and spears. Then again, if the passengers had left their vessel, they might have armed themselves just as Chris had done. 

After all, if they had come in search of the shield, they might have encountered the kronosaurus too and survived long enough to know it might not be the only dangerous creature about. 

"I wonder if they came looking for the shield just like we did," JD remarked, stepping forward to inspect the remaining artifacts. If they could be salvaged, he was confident the Anangu would want them back, and even if they didn't, these were valuable relics from the earliest inhabitants of this continent. Most of the objects broke apart when he picked it up, crumbling with rot. Still, the water carrier kept its shape, and several natural glass tools were in good condition. 

Chris didn't stop JD from collecting the tools, because his mind was fixated on another more alarming thought. If ancient travellers made it this far, why hadn't they left? Their boat was still here. Whatever ended them, took place on land, specifically, _this_ patch of dry land.

"JD, get out your gun." 

JD stopped what he was doing immediately and looked over his shoulder at Chris, about to question the older man until the same realization dawned on him. He stood up, bolt straight, forgetting the rest of the artifacts, having already taken what could survive the trip home. Wiping the wet hair out of his face, JD retrieved the gun he had placed in his backpack before climbing out of the raft. 

"Come on, let's get this done and get the hell out of here." 

Staying close to Chris, JD followed the older man up the slope, mindful of how slippery the rocks were from the shower above. The light spray and the rising heat had been warring for some time, resulting in air that was hot and humid. If not for the cascade from above, JD suspected the environment would have been just as insufferable as it had been before they reached the island. 

When they reached the top of the slope, they looked down to realize they were standing on the rim of a crater.

The peak at its centre was almost four feet high, flattened to appear like an altar. Chris could understand why the ancient people who came here would have chosen it as the final resting place for the snake god's shield. Surrounding the peak, the bedrock was covered in large rounded grey stones, no doubt smooth after years of water erosion. Like everything else in this place, its slick wet surfaces gleamed under the dim light. 

Resting against the stone altar was the Shield of Wanambi, the Snake God. 

Thanks to the moisture and the illumination from the aquifer, the black opal artifact captured the light, and in this dismal place, it was a breathtaking sight. Shaped like a pellet and almost three feet tall, it reflected iridescent colours across its smoothed opal finish. It was dazzling even in this light, and Chris could imagine why the Anangu wanted this protected. Broken up into pieces, the shield's value was significant, but left it intact, it would be priceless.

"Damn it's real!" JD exclaimed excitedly, "and it's really here!" 

Truth be told, he confessed to having doubts because oral histories could be notoriously unreliable, and JD was accustomed to relying on recorded texts to mark history's passage through the time. He took a step forward, preparing to descend the rim of the crater so they could claim their prize when those slick grey rocks heaved. 

Not heaved, Chris realized a second later. _Moved_. 

Mesmerized with horror, Chris watched as the armoured creatures lifted themselves onto eight spindly legs, their elongated bodies culminating in an extended prehensile tail. As he watched the prehistoric spiders catch the scent of new prey, Chris had only one thought in his mind. 

JD was _never_ coming back to Australia after this. 

* * *

Unaware of what their leader and their youngest member were presently facing, the remaining members of the seven were confronted with their own difficulties in retrieving the shield of Wanambi. 

Although Vin managed to stop one of the trucks or as they were known in this country, _utes_ , from approaching, the other was still racing towards the monolith. The mercenaries that were thrown from the first ute chased the dust and smoke trail left by the remaining vehicle as it crossed the outback terrain. Even from a distance, Vin could see the group of a dozen men armed with rifles and handguns. As he peered through the sight of his own weapon, he recognized a familiar face. 

"Packard's attack dog is with them!" Vin shouted over the sound of Josiah's gun firing at the trespassers. 

"Rihs?" Josiah stopped shooting for a moment. He had been trying to keep the mercenaries on approach busy enough to allow Ezra, Nathan and Buck time to get into position. 

"Yeah," Vin nodded, facing front as he took careful aim at the windscreen of the remaining vehicle. "Unless it's some other albino son of a bitch." 

Vin had never seen Conrad Rihs himself but recognized the man from Chris's descriptions. Travelling in the circles they did, they learned Packard seldom did his dirty work nor did he unleash his gang of armed thugs like rabid dogs. When Packard sent his mercenaries into any situation, they were usually led by his trusted lieutenant, Rihs. The tall German with white-gold hair, light blue eyes and pale skin was easily mistaken for an albino, though he was not one. 

Personifying Aryan purity, it was rumoured Rihs was really a member of the SS and Packard's liaison to the Third Reich. Whatever his origins, the tall German, who matched Buck in height, was as ruthless as they came. If he was here, then he intended to claim the shield for Packard, over their dead bodies. 

Vin tried to take out the tyre or the driver, whichever came first. Unfortunately, with Rihs behind the wheel, expecting the attack, the vehicle veered erratically as it roared forward, making it difficult for Vin to make the shot. From the back tray of the ute, his men returned fire, unleashing an equally deadly barrage of bullets against their vantage point. The sharpshooter ducked down to avoid being struck by dangerous fragments of shattered rock. 

Despite this, Vin was confident they could stave off Rihs's ambush. As it was, he could see Ezra, Nathan and Buck getting into position to join the fight. With the firepower they brought with them anticipating an attack, not to mention seizing the high ground, Vin was convinced they would have no trouble keeping Rihs and his men at bay until Chris got back. 

No trouble at all. 

* * *

Buck knew what it was almost immediately. 

In hindsight, they should have expected Packard to take extra precautions when chasing after the same prize as Chris Larabee. Except for one stubborn archaeology professor back east, there was no one as tenacious and relentless when it came to hunting antiquities as the leader of the seven. No wonder, Packard felt the need to take out some added insurance to see the shield of Wanambi in his hands. 

From his position above the ground among the boulders of Uluru facing the approaching band of mercenaries, Buck's spine stiffened at the sound rising above the bursts of gunfire. Being a pilot during the Great War, he learned how to distinguish it even with artillery shells and shooting erupting around him. Lifting his gaze to the sky, he searched the cloud for its appearance, and though he could not see it yet, Buck Wilmington knew what was coming. 

Looking down from the ledge on which he was perched with his gun ready to start shooting, Buck glimpsed Nathan and Ezra making good use of their own vantage point. As always the duo was side by side, as it had been since the two met at the Oise-Aisne Offensive, bitching about something like an old married couple. On the top of the monolith, he didn't have to see Vin or Josiah to recognize their handiwork when one of Packard's men fell in midstep. 

By the time it appeared through the clouds, it was loud enough for everyone to hear and Buck took a second to admire the German plane, made available to Packard by the Luftwaffe because of his affiliation with the Reich. The Bücker Bü 133 Jungmeister was usually a training craft, but as Buck studied it and saw it swooping down to make a pass at them, he realized it was going to be used for anything so benign. 

"WE GOT COMPANY!" 

His cry drove everyone on the rock to take cover. As Buck huddled against the large boulder he was using for the same purpose, his eyes widened when he saw something tumbling from the plane's cockpit. With dismay, Buck guessed what it was. He'd seen this payload dropped numerous times across Allied entrenchments on the Western Front. The horrific aftermath was never a sight to be easily forgotten. 

"INCOMING!"

His words were cut short when the 16-pound high-explosive bomb struck a patch of dirt near the Millie. The roar was deafening as dirt, rocks and dust flew in all directions. Some of it pelted the body of the Fokker, and Buck realized if he didn't get the plane in the air, the B133 would destroy it on the ground. The idea of anything happening to the Darlin' Millie overrode any thoughts of personal safety. The Millie wasn't just an integral part of their adventures across the globe, it was _his_ plane. 

And damned if he wasn't going to let any son of a bitch blow it to kingdom come. 

"COVER ME!" Buck shouted at anyone who would listen and then started running towards the plane. 

* * *

The blast had temporarily deafened Ezra Standish but not enough to keep the team's procurer from hearing Buck's announcement. Both men kept their heads down when the biplane made its pass. It was followed by a cloud of dust rolled from the epicentre of the explosion. The only casualty of the first drop had been the dry landscape, and Ezra suspected it might have been a warning shot to convince them to lay down their arms. They would not be so lucky when the next bomb fell. 

"What the hell is he doing?" Nathan demanded as he saw Buck leaving his place in the rocks to make a run to the plane. 

"Saving the Millie no doubt," Ezra searched the air for where the biplane had gone. It was presently making a loop, preparing to attempt another run at them. Whether or not the enemy would target the Fokker was unknown, but any harm to the Millie would cripple their operation beyond repair. It then dawned on Ezra that Packard might know this too. Taking out Millie was one way of ensuring they did not get in his way again. 

Whether Packard possessed such insight did not matter, Ezra knew Buck wasn't waiting to find out. 

"That's crazy!" Nathan burst out watching Buck sprinting across the landscape, dodging the shots coming at him. "He's going to get himself killed! Even if he gets the plane in the air, he can't fly that thing and handle the turret at the same time!" 

Ezra couldn't argue with him. There was virtually no cover between Buck and the Millie because the plane needed cleared, flat land to act as a makeshift runway. With that in mind, Ezra made a quick decision. 

"Cover me!" 

"Cover you?" Nathan baulked. "Are you crazy?" 

"No," Ezra bit back. "I went through too much anguish procuring us that aeroplane, to begin with, I will not allow it to be destroyed and be expected to perform the Herculean feat of acquiring another." 


	5. Dad-a-chum?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shameless homage to Stephen King to follow.

_Dad-a-chum? Dum-a-chum? Ded-a-chek? Did-a-chick?_

"Did those things just talk?" JD shot Chris a look as the swarm of prehistoric spiders began moving towards them.

_Dad-a-chum? Dum-a-chum? Ded-a-chek? Did-a-chick?_

Chris didn't know if the creatures were talking, but the sounds produced did sound quite human and was rather disturbing to hear from something resembling the unholy union of a spider and a scorpion.

_Dad-a-chum? Dum-a-chum? Ded-a-chek? Did-a-chick? Dad-a-chum? Dum-a-chum? Ded-a-chek? Did-a-chick? Dad-a-chum? Dum-a-chum? Ded-a-chek? Did-a-chick?_

The conversation, whatever it was about, intensified. On closer observation, Chris noticed hundreds of eye stalks turning in their direction, scrutinizing the two humans after reaching some kind of decision. Whatever was consensus was reached between the creatures, Chris had a feeling they were not going to like it. The leader of the seven tensed, perfectly aware there were more of these prehistoric arachnids than either he or JD had bullets. 

Meanwhile, in the centre of this swarm, Wanambi's Shield continued to await the outcome of its fate with indifference. 

Then, like the rising swell of an impending wave about to rush to shore, the swarm moved. Hundreds of legs clicked and clacked as their carapaces rubbed against each other. They crawled towards Chris and JD, uttering that peculiar chant that sounded like gibberish and a rallying cry all at once. Chris reacted instinctively, drawing his gun and firing once into the air, to see if the echo in this cavernous place would have any effect. 

BANG!

The deafening burst of sound was amplified tenfold inside the subterranean chamber and was loud enough to make both Chris and JD flinch. The creatures halted at once, startled by the alien sound and then scattered in all directions. Spreading further across the crater, their dispersing numbers produced gaps that allowed the two men to see the ground. As the spaces between the swarm thinned, the terrible fate of those who journeyed here before was finally revealed. 

Bones picked clean, some existing as little more than fragments and shards, lay across the gravel and dirt. Chris identified immediately, the rounded familiarity of human skulls, jawbones and detached femurs and tibias, the remains of the ancient travellers who brought the shield to their final resting place. There were so many fragments; it was impossible determining how many people had met their doom here. It didn't matter, these creatures were not going to add two more humans to their body count. 

"What do we do, Chris?" JD demanded, overriding his first impulse which was to run back to the raft and not come back. 

Chris told him quickly, and JD caught on with a nod, noticing the creatures were regrouping. The sound had frightened them temporarily but had realized sound and fury did not equal harm and were turning their attention back to the prey once again. 

"What about you?" JD asked, lingering for a second longer. 

"I'm going to get that shield." Chris faced front, his gun in hand after replacing the spent bullet. 

"How?" The younger man blurted out, not liking the sound of that one damn bit. 

"I'll figure that out as I go," Chris braced himself, having some idea of how he was going to reach the shield. "You just do what I ask, so you can get me out of trouble!" 

His bark sent JD running, and as the kid hurried off, Chris turned to face the stampede of arachnids coming in his direction. He took a step or two back, but not to retreat but to charge. He could make it across, but he'd have to be damn quick, and he'd almost certainly need JD's help getting out, but Chris had faith in the kid. Taking a deep breath and he reminded himself if he failed, to save one bullet for himself. 

This time, there would be no warning shots. 

Pulling the trigger after taking careful aim, the first shot obliterated the creature it struck. Its carapace cracked open like an egg, sending meat and grey blood in all directions. Once again, the thunderous round scattered the animals. The death of one of their own drove them back temporarily. Chris did not waste any time and sprinted forward. He made a running leap off the incline and landed on one of the arachnids, his boot pressed hard against the broad shell of its back, driving it into the ground, its legs splaying out at the sudden weight slamming against its body. 

_Dad-a-chum! Dum-a-chu...!_

It uttered an outraged squawk which Chris did not stick around to hear repeated. He launched himself off the creature's back and landed on another. Like before, the beast had no chance to respond before Chris's weight flattened it against the crater floor. As the others tried to regroup, Chris continued forward, running through the gaps and using the animals as stepping stones in his effort to reach the shield. Looking over his shoulder, he saw no sign of JD on the rim and hoped the kid didn't take too long.

Running down the slope had given his forward momentum speed, and so he was able to use the creatures as stepping stones to reach the shield. Firing another bullet, once again obliterating another arachnid with another loud boom, the noise had the desired effect of creating a path forward. However, Chris wasn't so stupid as to believe they would not figure out how to close in on him. Besides, his supply of bullets wasn't inexhaustible. 

Some of them had become bold, snapping at him with their menacing pincers as they converged on him once their disorientation passed. The shield was just ahead of him and Chris fired at arachnids coming at him from the side. The shot killed the thing outright, but others were crawling over its dead body to get to him. Sudden pain forced a grunt from his lips when one of those pincers caught the back of his calf, the injury blunted only because of his trousers. Still, Chris felt warmth spreading over his skin and knew he was bleeding. 

_Dad-a-chum? Dum-a-chum? Ded-a-chek? Did-a-chick?_

The chant was becoming louder and louder, more excited as if in the gibberish of their language, they were formulating some kind of plan. Chris started firing blindly, no longer trying to conserve his ammunition because he needed to reach the shield. The peak where the shield rested, was closer than the rim he just descended. His leg was still aching but Chris forced himself to move because the creatures knew they outnumbered him. Attacking from all fronts, Chris killed several more and knew he would soon need to reload.

Another snap of pincers had him uttering another groan of pain, this time at radiating from the fleshy part of his thigh. He responded to the attack with another bullet, putting it between the two eyestalks. Glancing down, he saw the flare of red across his khaki coloured pants and while the previous wound had been a mild nip, the spread of blood showed this was much worse. 

_Dad-a-chum? Dum-a-chum! Ded-a-chek? Did-a-chick! Dad-a-chum? Dum-a-chum! Ded-a-chek? Did-a-chick! Dad-a-chum? Dum-a-chum! Ded-a-chek? Did-a-chick!_

The chanting became more rapid, and they crowded him, their fear of his gun no longer a factor as something was spurring them to reach him. For the split second that he had before he jumped onto another creature's back, narrowly avoiding the pincers attempting to cut into him in outrage, he realized what had sent them into this frenzy. 

_Blood_.

His blood had set off their ravenous hunger, and it was almost with relief when he saw the crater was only a few feet away. Chris used the last of his ammunition to clear a path to it before he finally scrambled across the flattened piece of rock. By now, the pain in his leg was becoming debilitating, and Chris hoped they hadn't nicked his artery because that could be fatal. The drops of blood left a trail and Chris barely noticed the shield as he quickly reloaded his gun. He doubted he had much time before they climbed up after him. 

He sighted the first eyestalk peering over the edge of the rock and promptly fired at what passed for its face, sending it flying back to the ground. Another managed to climb over, crawling towards him with the speed of a roach before Chris lashed out with his leg and managed to kick it off the stone altar. The shield was now within reach, but Chris couldn't even admire it as he picked up the relic, struggling with its weight. 

As another creature came after him, Chris thought quickly and swung the shield. The hard jewelled surface made a terrible crack against the tough shell but did the job of sending it flying off the platform Chris was using for his refuge. However, the scent of blood did little to halt the swarm as they continued to close in on him, climbing in from all directions. With one arm holding the shield and the other gripping his gun, Chris squeezed off more rounds, shooting the arachnids before they could reach him as they swarmed around him. 

CRASH!

Glass shattered, drawing Chris's attention away from the swarm. He looked over his shoulder and saw JD descending the slope, holding the flare gun Chris sent him to retrieve. The leader of the seven let out a sigh of relief, and the breaking glass drew the swarm's interest away from him briefly. The fragments of the kerosene lamp disappeared among the sea of bodies, but Chris smelled the stench of petroleum even from here. The creatures, realizing there was more prey to be had, shifted their attention to JD. 

"CHRIS! GET READY TO RUN!" 

_Easier said than done_ , Chris thought, his leg stinging but he kept his grip on the shield and was poised to act when JD carried out his rescue plan. 

The young scholar aimed the flare gun and fired. The brilliant glare from the magnesium projectile overloaded the retinas of creatures accustomed to almost pitch-black darkness. They squealed in pain but nowhere as much as the effect of the magnesium on kerosene. 

The flammable liquid ignited with a loud whoosh, setting alight the creatures who had been doused with kerosene when the lamp was broken. The others scurried away, the fire scaring them enough for Chris to make his escape. Limping and ignoring his own wounds, Chris climbed off the peak, clutching the shield under his arm as he ran into the fire, he held it in front of his body to protect himself from the flames.

As he ran through the fire, crushing more creatures underfoot, gunshots erected. This time, they came from JD's gun as the younger man cleared Chris a path towards him. With the wall of flames that would last only as long as the kerosene and JD's well-aimed shots, Chris was able to navigate the sea of carapaces to reach the slope again. The shield weighed him down, but the pain and fear of being cut to pieces by these prehistoric monsters kept him moving. 

"Chris! You're hurt!" 

When Chris reached him, JD knew those things would be coming after them soon enough. The fire would not last long, and there were still too many of them to fight off. Even with bullets, they were vastly outnumbered against these monstrosities. 

"Here take this thing!" Chris handed him the shield and JD took it quickly, his knee bending a little until he adjusted to the weight and straightened up. The creatures regrouped again when the fire started to die out. The scent of blood replaced the noxious odour of fading kerosene. 

"Let's get the hell out of here," Chris prompted as the two men hurried up the slope to the rim of the crater. Behind them, they could hear that damn chant and the skittering sounds of too many legs in pursuit after them. 

_Dad-a-chum? Dum-a-chum! Ded-a-chek? Did-a-chick! Dad-a-chum? Dum-a-chum! Ded-a-chek? Did-a-chick! Dad-a-chum? Dum-a-chum! Ded-a-chek? Did-a-chick!_

"No argument from me! I never want to see another spider again!"

Chris couldn't blame him. As they reached the rim of the crater with the arachnids in pursuit, once again filling the air with their strange war cry, Chris doubted he'd ever feel safe around a Maine lobster either. 

* * *

The first time Ezra flew in a plane, he'd thrown up. Nathan hadn't been impressed since the healer was sitting next to him at the time, but Ezra felt oddly satisfied after. 

These days he was a better flyer. With the team having to travel by air to reach the exotic destinations where most of the artifacts they sought out were found, Ezra had no choice in the matter. He had to admit, it was certainly faster than months onboard a ship. However, that didn't mean he was still comfortable with the whole notion of flying thousands of feet above the ground, where crashing would mean almost certain death. 

Especially when he was standing behind the trigger of a Browning .50 calibre machine gun in the aperture turret on the nose of the Millie, currently in flight. 

Following Buck on board the Millie, the pilot wasted no time bringing the engines to life. As the propellers whirred into action, Ezra saw the enemy aircraft conducting its bombing run, dropping the explosive payload on Nathan and the others. He prayed silently that his friends knew how to take cover when he saw multiple blasts erupting across the sacred monument. Ezra hoped they didn't damage it too much but realized it was more likely than ever, their actual target was the treasure hunters standing between Packard and the shield. 

Fortunately, Vin, Nathan and Josiah had spent enough time in the trenches of the Western Front to be familiar with aerial bombardment and took cover as soon as they saw the plane. Meanwhile, the Millie rumbled across the red earth of the barren outback, needing desperately to become airborne before the enemy came back. As it left behind the monolith, the buzzing drone of the enemy craft intensified once more, and Ezra had to only peer out the window to see it was closing in.

"BUCK! INCOMING!" 

"Get to the gun!" Buck shouted back from the cockpit. 

Ezra gaped down the aisle at him for a second, frozen in place as that order registered in his mind, one hand clutching on the edge of a seat to steady himself as the plane continued to gain takeoff speed. "Surely, you jest?" 

"Surely, you go!" Buck shouted back. "If you don't, that Kraut plane is going to bomb us to kingdom come!" 

"I can do that from here!" Ezra protested. 

"No, you can't!" Buck shot him a look of exasperation. "Get moving!" 

Ezra cursed as he ran toward the cockpit, wondering what on earth was he thinking when he followed Buck into the Millie. This was usually Chris or Josiah's duty to perform since Vin's tolerance for air travel was possibly worse than his. Reaching the cockpit, he saw Buck pushing the throttle as the plane achieved the velocity for takeoff. He peered through the window and saw the B113 speeding towards them. 

"Buck, that craft is exceedingly close to us...!" 

Buck wasn't listening, with the flaps dropped and lift achieved, the Millie soared off the ground, creating a minor dust storm as she became airborne. The B113 banked hard to avoid a collision because while the larger Fokker 20 might survive the impact, the smaller craft would not. Buck had to give its pilot credit for being able to perform the maneuver that took it out of the Millie's path for the moment. He had to do the same for Millie, angling the Fokker as soon as it reached the air, to avoid the same destructive end. 

"Ezra, get to the gun! Once he gets clear, he's going to be coming at us!" 

Ezra cursed once again as he dropped to the floor of the cockpit and pulled open the hatch that led to the makeshift gunnery turret Josiah had built into the plane shortly after they acquired the craft. The team's procurer had no idea what kind of preacher Josiah would have made if the man had chosen to follow his passion into the clergy, but as a mechanic, Josiah was a damned genius. He'd created a small aperture on the nose of the Millie, just before the engine, and mounted a .50 calibre machine gun to provide the aircraft with a formidable arsenal if it came under fire.

Slipping on the safety harness Josiah installed, Ezra swore once again, uttering a litany of profane statements debasing the parentage of all those responsible for putting him in this untenable spot, before sliding the hatch above him across. The roar of the wind immediately filled his ears as he stood up and cranked the gun into position, feeling his stomach lurch at the sight of the sky around him. 

Not that he had much time to suffer because through the rush of air in his ears, the drone of the enemy aircrafts engines became audible. Ezra searched the sky to see the B113 flying towards them. The smaller craft was closing the distance quickly and as soon as it was in range, unleashed a barrage of bullets that made Ezra duck down to avoid being hit, like a gopher in a hole. The bullets tore across the nose of the Millie, one of them cracking the cockpit glass. Ezra craned his neck to make sure Buck was alright. 

The pilot gestured with a thumbs up, and Ezra nodded in relief before taking charge of the Millie's own weapons. The Fokker did not come with a gun, so Ezra hoped to give their enemy a bit of surprise. As the B113 came into range, attempting to attack them from the side, Ezra started firing, sending a murderous hail of .50 calibre shells at the smaller craft. As it flew by, Ezra saw through the deafening roar of gunfire, its fuselage becoming riddled with the large bullets. 

By now, Buck had gained enough altitude to be able to bank the Millie hard enough to fly after the smaller craft which had not been mortally wounded. However, it was now aware that this Fokker was nowhere as defenceless as previously believed. Once again, Ezra fought the disorientation at the steep turn and tried to hold down whatever lunch was in his stomach. When he'd run after Buck earlier, he'd hoped to be able to protect the craft from the main door, not be perched upon the nose like a fly on the windscreen of a car. 

Of course, he had always been too damn optimistic for his own good. 

To shake the Fokker from its tail, the B113 performed a corkscrew maneuver, circling the larger plane while opening fire. Once again, Ezra had to drop down into the turret to avoid getting hit while Buck performed another sharp bank to escape the fire. Ezra forced himself back into position again, his stomach telling him in no uncertain terms this abuse would not be tolerated indefinitely. Ignoring his nausea, he fired once more, sending another barrage of bullets in the direction of the smaller aircraft. 

From inside the cockpit of the Millie, Buck saw Ezra shooting once again, and this time the bullets riddling the fuselage of the enemy plane did significant damage. The engine was hit because the craft started pouring out thick black smoke as it lost altitude. The B113 broke off from the dog fight as it banked hard to escape the gunfire it could not afford to sustain. However, its ability to fly was severely compromised, and Buck sighted the damage to the wing. The biplane headed towards the Fokker, its pilot struggling to maintain control.

Buck performed a barrel roll to avoid a midair collision, praying Ezra had his harness on or this was going to end very badly. As the world spun around, he saw the black trailing past him as the B113 flew past the nose of the Millie, disappearing into the sky beyond the Fokker's starboard side. The Millie was too big for these kinds of shenanigans, so Buck quickly righted the plane and was grateful to see Ezra was still in the turret. The gambler looked up and Buck winced, never realizing any human being could be so green until the cockpit window was splattered with something chunky and viscous.

 _Damn_ , he hoped he didn’t have to have to clean _that_ up.


	6. Parlay

Vin Tanner did not like Conrad Rihs. 

The albino son of a bitch reminded him of a statue, carved in marble and devoid of humanity, no different from those found in the fancy museums Alex sometimes dragged him to. Perhaps Rihs had wronged him in a previous life, and he would always be cosmically predisposed to hating the man. Maybe the asshole just pissed Vin off for leading the charge against him and his friends. Whatever the reason, Vin peered through the sight of his rifle, trying to get Rihs in his crosshairs. 

Unfortunately, Rihs appeared adept at avoiding Vin’s bullet. 

The group of men hired by Roderick Packard had gotten as close as they could to the monolith without Vin, Josiah and Nathan cutting them down. Some had taken refuge behind the steel frame of the utes, one lying on its back like a turtle and the other having come to a halt unable to advance further. It concerned Vin he could not see what they were doing behind the second, upright vehicle. If Rihs had brought an arsenal that included a biplane, then there was no telling the destruction they were prepared to unleash to get Wanambi's Shield. 

This battle was taking place in the middle of the Outback, hundreds of miles from the law or help, and Vin thought with a frown, no restraints. 

At present, Rihs and his men were taking cover, including the ones who managed to escape the truck Vin had driven to a halt. Not all of them were trading gunfire, some like Rihs kept their heads down. They were trying to make for the rock which seemed reckless considering the barrage of firepower being unleashed on them. They would be cut down before they even reached the base of Uluru. Rihs was a smart son of a bitch, Vin thought, he would have been prepared for the contingency if Chris Larabee's treasure hunters got to the holy mountain first.

The biplane was meant to take them out from above, but as Ezra was so fond of saying in similar situations, was that the only card he had to play?

The sound of propellers and engines rumbled distantly and Vin looked up to see the Millie and the biplane doing battle above the skies, weaving in and out of the clouds in their mortal combat. Both planes were trading gunfire, and despite himself, Vin was grateful it was Ezra operating the gun up there, and not him. Vin was not a good flyer. Dropping his gaze back to the terrestrial fight, he supposed he ought to be grateful Buck was keeping the B113 busy.

From their high perch, the relic hunters had done damage with wounded bodies sprawled against the dry grass of the red, outback dirt. Still, Vin felt the absence of Buck and Ezra most profoundly. When a crown of white-hair appeared through the passenger window of the parked vehicle, Vin took another shot, hoping to nail the leader who ran the show. He was convinced if he took out Rihs, the fight would reach a conclusion faster. 

A cracked web appeared instantly in the glass and created a corresponding effect on the driver's side window. Rihs dropped at the last minute to avoid the shot, eliciting a curse of annoyance from Vin. More gunfire was aimed at his direction, and Vin dropped down to avoid being hit. However, when he peered over the outcrop of rock protecting him, he saw Rihs had also emerged. He was standing behind a _Maschinengewehr_ 30 machine gun with an ammunition belt attached perched on top of the utility's hood. 

"Oh shit!" Vin swore and then shouted at Josiah and Nathan who were further down the monolith, laying down a barrage of gunfire at their weapons. "Watch out! He's about to.m."

He never finished the warning before the weapon fired. 

The _Maschinengewehr_ 30 capable of firing 600 to 800 rounds in less than a minute and would be modified as an aircraft weapon in less than a decade, unleashed a deadly hail of bullets at Nathan. The healer, who was the closest to the ground, was forced behind some boulders to avoid being shredded. The rapid-fire delivery kept Nathan from being able to return fire, and with that opening in their defences, Rihs men began to move in. 

Josiah looked up at Vin’s direction, needing guidance on how to deal with this fight that had suddenly become a battle on two fronts. Vin thought quickly and conveyed what they needed to do in two quick hand gestures. The failed seminary student nodded quickly and started shooting again, this time aiming for Mr Rihs, trying to get through the wall of gunfire produced by the M30 to give Nathan a way out of his predicament. 

Meanwhile, Vin turned his attention to the men attempting to reach the base of the monolith, to come at them from a different direction. Taking aim with his Winchester, he dropped at least two men, aiming for their knees to ensure they got no further. Vin didn't want to kill them and did his best to disable them instead. Others returned fire, forcing him to duck down to avoid being hit but Vin rebounded fast, although each time he did, their progress bothered him. 

Then without warning, the guns went silent.

Rihs was waving at his men to stop shooting, and within a few seconds, the explosive bursts from numerous guns stopped. Only the gunfire of the planes in the air still remained, but they seemed distant. As the smoke from the discharged weapons disappeared, Vin looked down at Josiah and Nathan who were staring at him puzzled, trying to figure out what was happening. Vin had an idea, but he gestured to his friends to standby, at least until Rihs made his play. 

"Mr Tanner! Can we parlay?" 

_Okay, this was new_.

  
Vin exchanged a glance with Josiah who was taking his shots from a rock shelf a little further down. The older man shrugged, undecided about what ought to be done and chose to leave it in his hands. Nathan, who emerged from the boulders he used for cover, showed him the same reaction. In Chris's absence, it was his call. 

Vin wished otherwise because negotiation was Ezra's wheelhouse, not his. Then again, at present their procurer was in the air, most likely introducing the clouds and birds to what he'd eaten for breakfast, so Vin supposed he could try. 

"If parlay is a fancy word for talking, go ahead!" 

"Can I be assured if I take a step closer, you will not open fire? We are civilised men, after all." Rihs shouted. 

"I won't blow your head off if that's what you mean!" 

"It is!" Rihs's head bobbed back and forth to show his trust in Vin’s word. He emerged from behind the utility and walked a few dozen feet closer to the rock, mostly so he could be heard without having to shout. His men were holding positions, their guns aimed at the treasure hunters in case someone broke the terms of this temporary ceasefire. 

"That's far enough," Vin warned when Rihs stepped into the shadow cast by the rock. "I can hear you just fine." 

"Very well then," Rihs stopped, and Vin decided up close, the Kraut pissed him off even more. "There is no need for this unpleasantness. We are willing to pay you for the shield. Mr Packard will match and double, even treble any offer promised for the delivery of the shield." 

"That's mighty generous of you, but I'm going to have to say no. This ain't about money and the person you should be horse-trading with isn't here." 

"Yes," Rihs answered, appearing to look thoughtful. "And where would Mr Larabee be right now. I cannot help but notice you are all not here." 

"Where he is, doesn't matter," Vin stated, not about to let the man know Chris was at this moment retrieving the shield, although he suspected Rihs guessed it already. "There ain't no deal to make. The shield is going to the people whom it belongs to." 

"And how long will it be before we take it from them?" Rihs asked. 

"That ain't our problem," Vin replied. "So it's best you just pull up stakes and leave. We don't want to kill you, but if you come any further, I can't make that promise." 

Rihs burst out laughing. "Mr Tanner, you may have the high ground, but you are deluded if you believe you are in a position of advantage."

"LOOK!" 

Vin didn't recognise the voice shouting, he knew what it was that got them so excited. The buzzing drone of the plane propellers which had become background noise during their firefight suddenly grew louder. The first plane to appear out of the clouds was the biplane. It trailed a thick cloud of smoke as it struggled to remain afloat. 

"Its engines have been hit!" Vin heard Josiah call out. 

Vin supposed if anyone would know it would be Josiah. The oldest of them was responsible for the maintenance of all their vehicles, including the Millie.

It was apparent the biplane was going to make a rough landing when it arched across the sky. Was it the same for the Millie? Then as if in answer to a prayer, the Fokker F20 appeared showing no signs of any damage capable of grounding her. Unlike the B113, whose landing point or crash site was anyone’s guess, the Millie was headed straight for them. 

As soon as the plane's snub nose dipped towards them in its descent, Vin registered Ezra behind the machine gun a split second before the procurer started raining gunfire on their assailants, unaware of their current detente. The men behind the utility reacted in kind, aiming their guns at the approaching aircraft while Rihs deciding this parlay was over, ran back to join them. 

"Cover them!" Vin ordered, and soon all three of them were shooting again, sending more deadly fire at the enemy now assailed from the ground and air.

More and more men started to tumble into the dirt as Rihs was forced to divide his forces, unable to stand up against the united assault. Sand and rocks erupted like geysers as the aircraft's gun ripped across the ground in its race to the enemy. Rihs's men scattered as the gunfire reached them. The discordant behaviour allowed Vin, Nathan and Josiah to pick them off quickly. By the time the Millie circled around for another attack, too many of Rihs's men lay sprawled across the desert, wounded. 

Rihs stopped running. The tall German surveyed the scene around him, taking in the sight of his injured man, the other upturned truck and even the pillar of smoke in the distance, the result of the biplane's crash. Raising his eyes to the monolith, he stared at Vin as if marking the moment as significant. From where he was poised behind the sight of his gun, Vin suspected Rihs was making a promise that would not bode well for him or his comrades in the future. 

Then just as suddenly, Rihs snapped out of his fugue and shouted the order Vin and the others recognised without having to hear the words spoken.

 _Retreat_. 

"Hold your fire!" Vin shouted although he doubted he needed too. Like himself, Josiah and Nathan had only aimed to wound Rihs's men instead of killing them outright unless it was unavoidable. They certainly wouldn't be putting any bullets in anyone's back.

Rihs headed towards the truck riddled with holes, still motioning his men to do the same. The M30 used earlier to such good effect lay across the ground, forgotten. If Rihs made one step towards it, Vin would end the son of a bitch. The sharpshooter's compassion only went so far. Fortunately, Rihs's only plan at this point was to leave, recognising the numbers against him since his ace in the hole, the biplane, was now a black spot somewhere in the Outback. 

Vin doubted Rihs counted on Buck Wilmington's determination to save Millie or the plane's ability to defend itself. 

As the Millie appeared in the sky once more, the truck roared to life intending to leave the area. At this point, Rihs was unaware if the Fokker was making another attack run or landing, either way, he didn't intend staying around to find out. Before Rihs climbed into the front passenger seat of the ute, the mercenary paused long enough to stare across the empty plain, to look directly at Vin. Even though he was too far away for Vin to see what he was trying to convey, Vin had no doubt it was him Rihs was addressing. 

Rihs offered him a short salute, and Vin knew immediately something had been set in motion between them even as the truck started moving away.

Whatever it was, Vin was sure he wasn't going to like it. 

* * *

"That turned out better than I thought," Josiah said when they descended from the monolith to greet Ezra and Buck when the Millie finally touched down. 

In the aftermath, all that remained was the upturned truck and the column of dark smoke rising in the distance. Once Vin had ensured Rihs and his men had vanished over the horizon and didn't try to sneak back, he rested easier and climbed down the revered monument to the ground below. 

"Yeah," Vin nodded, still a little bothered by his exchange with Rihs. There was something personal about the way the man saluted him, some menace he couldn't discern. Vin wished Chris were here because the leader of their team always seemed to have a better understanding of such things than Vin himself. "I think Chris is right, I think Packard and that Rihs fella are gonna be a problem for us in the future." 

"I think the future is on a crash course myself," Josiah shrugged as the Millie's engines sputtered to a stop. "Packard works for the Nazis, and they're starting fires everywhere." 

"You think Miss Julia is right?" Nathan asked next to him. The lady spy had mentioned the intelligence community's growing alarm with the rise of Nazi Germany in Europe. With Japan and China engaged in war and Benito Mussolini flexing his muscles in Italy, not to mention Franco's rise in Spain, things were starting to get ugly. "That we might be headed for another war?"

"It looks like it," Vin shrugged, not liking what that would mean for him. Except for Chris, Buck and Josiah, all of them would be drafted. He'd fought in the Great War, and that was bad enough, he didn't like the idea of seeing JD in that kind of situation. Of course, if there was a fight, none of them would stay out of it, but that would mean a forced separation. 

"I say we worry about that calamity when the time comes," Josiah spoke up as the Millie's propellers slowed to a stop. He understood their worry and didn't wish to see any of his friends, _no family_ , on the battlefield again. However, it was a situation out of their hands and worrying about it when it was still an intangible was pointless. 

"Good idea," Nathan shook the thought out of his head when he noticed the state of the MIllie's cockpit window. "What the hell is that?"

"I don't know," Vin stifled a smirk but knew exactly what it was. "But I don't think Buck will be letting Ezra anywhere near Millie's guns for a while." 

"Damn," Nathan winced, recalling what kind of flyer Ezra was and realising the acrobatics the Millie would have had to perform to fight the biplane would not have aided matters with Ezra handling the gun. "I better break out the Pepto." 

The main doors of the Millie swung open and emerged first, was Ezra. The usually dapper southerner looked green to the gills and paused at the doorway, taking a deep breath of the dry, outback air before prompt leaning out and throwing up again. 

"Ughh..." Vin made a face. "That's ain't pretty." 

"Ezra, are you alright?" Nathan hurried to his best friend, his usual jibes at such opportune moments, cowered into submission by his healer's instincts. 

Ezra's language silenced them all. 

"There ain't no call for you to be cussing at us like that," Nathan frowned approaching Ezra who had exited the Millie and was leaning against the fuselage. His eyes were closed, and his head tilted back trying to recuperate from his traumatic ordeal. 

"Leave me alone," Ezra grumbled, "I wish to expire in peace." 

"Not today," Nathan smiled. "I'll get you some Pepto for your stomach and soap for your mouth." 

"You are not my friend. You're some miscreant that happened along my path. If you had any pity, you would kill me now and put me out of my misery." 

"Ezra, I swear you are cleani...." Buck Wilmington's booming voice stopped short when he stepped through the doors and spotted the rest of his friends. "Oh hey, you boys all right?"

"Yeah, we're fine," Vin spoke up. "Thanks to you both. The Millie showing up like the cavalry, shook them up some." 

"Well my baby's a little heavy, but she got it where it counts," Buck patted the metal hull with affection. 

"She took a bit of damage," Josiah noted out as he inspected the bullet holes in the fuselage. He was just as protective about the Millie as Buck, since it was Josiah who was responsible for her maintenance and the repair of any damage. 

"Not enough to cause us hurt," Buck stepped aside and allowed Nathan to enter the Millie to retrieve his medical kit. 

"Did you catch where Packard's men were before you landed?" Vin inquired, wanting to make sure Rihs wasn't going to double back on them or anything since they would have to stay put here. 

"As far as I could tell, they were headed straight for Alice," Buck answered, having surveyed the area when he started his landing. "Don't know where the other plane went though. I didn't see any parachute so the pilot may not have made it out." 

"Well that's their problem," Vin stated coldly. "Just want to make sure they don't try to surprise us." 

Chris and JD had yet to come back with the shield and judging by the way Josiah was examining the Millie, the mechanic would want to check the plane out thoroughly before they flew again. Vin couldn't say he minded Josiah's insistence on this point. The last thing they needed was to discover a problem when they were flying over the North Atlantic. 

But Buck wasn't listening because no sooner than the comment escaped him, Buck was pushing past Vin and hurrying towards the monolith. When Vin turned around, he understood why. A glint of something too bright caught him in the eye and Vin had to avert his gaze. Once the gleam diminished, Vin realised it was more than just the distant flash of light that sent the big man running towards the sacred rock.

It was Chris and JD. 

Chris was using the shiny object as a crutch while JD's hand was gripped around his upper arm to provide him with support. As Vin and Buck closed in, leaving Nathan to tend to Ezra while Josiah continued to examine the condition of the MIllie, the sharpshooter noticed the soot and dirt covering both men's clothes and skin. They had emerged from the far side of the rock, using the path leading into the cavern below ground in their search for the shield. 

"Chris, what happened?" Buck demanded and like Vin realised what Chris was using as a crutch was the shield in all its priceless and iridescent glory. "Is that the..."

"Yeah," Chris managed a smile, "that's the shield." 

"You're hurt," Vin stated simply, thinking both men looked as if they just climbed out of a furnace. There was a stain of blood on the lower half of Chris's left pant leg, and though Vin couldn't see the injury, he suspected it was more severe than Chris would admit to if he needed JD's help to walk.

"It's nothing that won't heal," Chris was glad to see the others had fared well in their absence. "We got any trouble from Packard?" 

"Nothing we couldn't handle," Vin replied, eyeing Chris with concern as Buck liberated the shield from Chris and handed it to him. The thing was heavy, and Chris would do much better with Buck’s help walking. "Mr Rihs and some hired guns tried to make trouble, but we held them off."

"Don't forget those crazy emus," Buck reminded. 

JD snorted. "Spiders, lobsters, giant lizards and now crazy big birds. This whole continent is trying to kill us. Can we go home now?" 

Before either Buck or Vin asked for an explanation, Chris cut them off, shaking his head at the same time. "Tourists." 


	7. Mrs Recillos

Life could be strange. 

When Inez was eighteen years old, living in Val Verde, she was raised by a mother whose bitter relationship with her father, meant a constant reminder of why their lives were not better. In those days, she wanted nothing more than to travel the world and leave that resentment behind. She loved Paloma Vega but hearing the daily barrage of complaints against her father Roberto made Inez wonder if perhaps her mother didn't hate her a little for being his child. 

It was why she ran away to join the fight of _La Cristiada_.

The conflict of the Cristero War, a rejection by Mexico's religious population against the mandated secularism of the Calles Regime, had raged from its introduction in 1917. Like all Mexican girls growing up in an agricultural community, she was raised Catholic. Inez was never a staunch believer, finding priests too quick to label women with thoughts of their own as wantons or disruptors, however by eighteen she tired of living at home and saw the fight as a way to escape home. Inez loved her mother Paloma, but their relationship was tainted by Paloma's disdain towards Roberto. 

At first, her role in _Brigadas Feminanas_ was mostly to facilitate the movement of money, supplies and ammunition to Cristero strongholds. This was easy enough to do because of her voice. Singing opened doors for her, giving her access to military camps and hospitals where she entertained troops and robbed them of supplies when they weren’t looking. The first time she wore a _chalecos_ , a vest used for smuggling munitions, exhilaration rushed through her because of the danger, not the cause.

Inez was no devout, but the fight taught her much and challenged her view of life, of what it meant to be a woman in a world built by men. She learned it was pointless to blame men for all the ills of her life when she possessed the power to change her destiny. By the time she was twenty-two, she was a nurse working on wounded Cristeros in caves and mountain encampments. They, in turn, taught her how to shoot guns, set explosives and stand up to _Federales_ chasing her and her pious sisters through the jungle. 

It was during these turbulent times she met Bernado Recillos.

During their nights at the camp in Laguna, Inez would entertain her comrades by singing and playing her _vihuela_ , a traditional stringed instrument. Bernado who was present for one of her performances was enchanted. To Inez, he was the handsome, brave soldier who was also kind and intelligent. He was the only son of a religious studies Professor, prosecuted and jailed for his beliefs that one should worship how they pleased, without the government's interference.

They fell in love despite the conflict tearing their country apart. 

While she managed to maintain her anonymity, for that was the _Brigadas Feminanas'_ most important rule - secrecy. Bernado was known to the _Federales_ and could seldom remain in one place for long, but they still met when possible. Yet when they were together, they would sit watching the stars, talking about the world outside Mexico, the places they would visit together. Before he became a rebel, he was a student learning languages and wished to return to it once the war was over. He promised to show her the world.

Inez didn't need that much from him, just the promise of being together forever. He was her first love, and if he did not make her bitter and angry as her mother had been at her father, Inez would be content with that. 

When Inez fell pregnant, Bernado was delighted, even though the realities of their situation meant she could not continue as an active soldier for the cause. Inez saw no difficulty in this. The life they created together was something she would protect as fiercely as the right to worship. Besides, she could continue to serve even in her delicate condition. Scores of other women across Mexico fought for the Cristeros without needing to be on the battlefield.

They married in secret at a small chapel outside Tula. 

By the time little Roberto Benardo Recillos entered the world, the war was almost on the verge of ending. Inez returned home to Val Verde, and despite Paloma's acidic tongue saying otherwise, her mother was pleased to see her home. Together, they raised Benny and to Inez's surprise, her relationship with Paloma strengthened. The years apart had allowed both women to see life from each other's perspective and in that understanding, they found common ground. 

When the war did end, Bernado returned home, and though Inez tried to help him, there was no denying the difficulty he found in adjusting to civilian life again. His search for work took him away from Val Verde, and Inez found she was raising little Benny on her own. Despite this, her love for him remained as strong as ever, even though she was aware Paloma feared history repeating itself. The old woman did not wish Inez to live her life, resenting a husband who was never present and projecting her anger onto a child who would flee to escape it. 

Then, at the behest of an old university friend, Bernado was offered a translating job in Europe. Although she envied his journey, Inez feared it as well. Something had not felt right about the whole affair, but Bernado promised her, this could be the start of a new life. When he was settled, she and Benny would join him in Prague. Bidding him farewell, Inez watched him board the plane that would take him to Czechoslovakia, feeling a tightening in her chest she couldn't explain. 

She heard nothing further from him for months. Inez assured herself he was fine. After the war, she knew how capable he was of looking after himself. However, when the weeks stretched into months without even a letter, Inez began to worry. Her investigations into his whereabouts offered more reason for concern when she realised just how little he'd told her about this supposed 'job'.

Inez didn't even know the name of the friend who made him this offer and her request for information from the Mexican Consulate in Prague, revealed no information about Bernado after he set foot in the city. Inez suspected the worst but there was little she could do about it. She had little money and an infant to support. Her mother Paloma was ill, making it impossible for her to leave a child in the older woman’s care. There was nothing she could do but wait. 

Three months after he vanished, Inez received a package.

It did not come to her through any conventional means. Instead, it was delivered by Father Garcia and had come from some forgotten place in Soviet Russia, care of the Tula chapel where she and Bernado were married. The brief note that accompanied it told Father Garcia, who was the intended recipient and the priest accustomed to clandestine dealings during the war, saw it delivered to her in secrecy. 

When Inez received the gift, she had no idea what to make of it. 

It was a necklace, fashioned from bronze and crystal and while exquisite in its design and craftsmanship, was not at all valuable. The pendant which was the most unusual thing about it was a piece of translucent crystal with distinctive markings etched across its face. Bernado's brief message to Inez did not illuminate the mystery of it or his current whereabouts. All that was contained in the short note was his promise he would be home soon and that he loved her. He wanted to see her wear the necklace when he came home. 

He would never get the chance. 

Two years later, Inez resigned herself to the reality Bernado was dead. Her mother had died in the spring of 1935 from a stomach tumour, leaving Inez the family home which the young widow maintained with her job as a cook in one of the restaurants in Val Verde. Alone, struggling to raise her son, Inez no longer played the vihuela or sang the songs of her youth. She had no desire to marry again, even though she did not lack suitors. She was beautiful, but her love was intended for the son Bernado left her. 

Out of nowhere, she received a surprise letter from her father's lawyer in America. Roberto Vega had passed away and left her his bar. It was a chance at a new life, and Inez took it, even if she found his only request for her acceptance of her inheritance somewhat puzzling. 

To always take care of the seven men who were his best customers. 

* * *

**PALOMA'S BAR - A WEEK LATER**

_The night before I went to your house,_

_I hit the padlock three times,_

_You have a heavy sleep._

_Oh! Sandunga, Sandunga_

_Mama, for God's sake._

_Sandunga, don't be ungrateful,_

_Mom of my heart._

_You offered to accompany me_

_From the church to my hut,_

_But since you did not arrive_

_I had to come alone._

_On the banks of the Papaloapam_

_I was taking a bath yesterday,_

_You passed by the banks_

_And you did not want to see._

It was Emily Wilmington who told Buck a long time ago, a woman's heart was an infinite universe of stars, and every twinkle of light held its own secret. The first time he heard Inez Recillos strum her guitar and sing in that achingly sweet voice of hers, he knew he wanted to chart every one of them.

His friends called Inez was his Holy Grail, the woman he only wanted because she wouldn't give him the time of day. Buck's motives were nowhere that shallow. So much of her was familiar to him. Beneath the fierce mother cub who would defend her child to her last breath and no-nonsense businesswoman was someone whose heart was far more fragile than she would have most believe. 

His mother was like that. 

Like Inez, Emily was fierce and proud, even though she raised him in a cathouse, and though she claimed to beyond the insults of society, Buck knew every unkind word made her bleed. Yet she loved him and gave him the best life she could in her situation. When she passed, the hole she left in his heart was a void he tried to fill with too many women who never quite measured up until Roberto's daughter took charge of Paloma's. 

When Inez sang her songs, the haunting melody of her voice broke his heart every time he heard it. More than anything in this world, he wanted to take the sadness in it away, just as he wished he could have taken it away from Emily.

The burst of applause around him snapped Buck out of his thoughts and back to the present. From his chair at the seven's favourite table at Paloma's, he saw the audience clapping with appreciation when the song had concluded showing clearly they would like more. Buck joined in the applause and swept a glance at those present. Ezra was looking dapper as ever in a black and white tuxedo, preparing for a night at the gaming tables. Josiah was at the bar getting drinks, while Vin was seated next to Alex, his arm draped around her shoulder in affection.

Still, their number was not whole. 

Despite Buck's efforts to convince JD otherwise, Buck could not get him to abandon his plans to work on a paper he needed to submit for his college matriculation. Even though the kid travelled the world with them, receiving a better education through their adventures than any found in a book, JD still needed to do the work to get his degree. So instead of living it up with his friends tonight, JD was at a university library studying. Meanwhile, Chris was at the ranch, being fussed over by Nettie Wells who intended to nurse him back to health whether he wished for it or not. 

Buck only hoped Nathan's promise to check on him would keep his old friend from homicide if he got ornery enough. 

Inez stepped away from the small space set aside for the stage, choosing not to give the audience an encore. As always, she wore traditional Mexcian clothing that included a white embroidered peasant blouse, a flowing red skirt and a flower in her hair. Carrying her _vihuela_ , she looked as if she stepped out of another century. 

"My friends, I'm afraid your drinks do not serve themselves!" She declared to her patrons who reacted to the banter with laughter. Inez flashed them all a radiant smile of farewell before she surrendered the stage to the four-piece band who were ready to resume their set after a well-deserved break. Lively music soon broke out, attracting couples to the dance floor. 

"Darlin', that was beautiful," Buck stood up from his chair when she approached their table. "You sang like the prettiest songbird I ever saw. Maybe you can sing for me sometimes," he gave her a look of suggestion. "In private." 

"I'm sorry Senor," Inez returned smoothly, more than accustomed to these invitations by now and fairly adept at sidestepping them by now. "I'm afraid I do not do private shows." 

"Then maybe I can serenade you," Buck insisted, not about to cry defeat yet. "I can sing you an awfully pretty love song." 

Ezra Standish, who was sipping cognac from a snifter choked in mid-swallow. "Mr Wilmington, I feel obligated to intervene on Inez's behalf having heard your vocal stylings. Serenading is _not_ your best accomplishment."

"Depending on where I am, when I'm doing it," Buck threw Ezra a grin. 

"Oh God," Alex groaned. It never ceased to amaze her the height of Buck's arrogance, mainly where it came to his prowess with the opposite sex. "You have no shame." 

"Most women love that," Buck enjoyed provoking Alex's distaste. Although they often teased each other, Buck was glad to see Alex here tonight. Since Alex had become an intern at a local hospital, she and Vin struggled to spend time together. Tonight was the first free evening she had since their return from Australia and Buck was glad Alex could join them. 

"So how about it, Inez?" 

Inez exchanged a look with Alex, one universally shared by all women when dealing with a troublesome man. Her expression shifted to one of infinite patience when she regarded Buck again. Since her arrival in America, and taking over her father's bar, Inez had become more than accustomed to Buck’s less than subtle invitations. Most of the time, she found them more amusing than irritating. She was sure his pursuit had to do with her immunity to his charms than any real affection. Like the greyhound at the track. Once it caught the rabbit, the dog lost all interest in the chase. However, Inez did not intend to sacrifice her virtue just to neuter his interest.

In truth, as exasperating as the man could be, she did find him sweet and charming. Of course, men like him traded on those qualities to bed as many women as he could, and while Inez could not deny he was attractive, there were too many shadows left in her heart to bring any new light to it. 

"Some other time Senor Buck," she said good-naturedly. "Besides, it is a school night, and I promise Benny I will tuck him in bed." 

"Hey, I can help you with that! Kids love me." 

"Since when?" Vin blurted out, voicing everyone's unspoken thought.

"I did alright with you, didn't I?" Buck returned, refusing to have his skills as a potential father decried in front of Inez. He was quick to remind Vin how young Vin had been when he wandered onto the Western Front.

"If doing alright was telling me which French brothel had the cleanest girls, I guess you did," Vin threw him a smirk.

"You _did_ not," Ezra glared at Buck reproachfully. During the war, Vin's care had mostly fallen to him and Chris and had that revelation been made at the time, Buck wouldn't have to worry about German planes shooting him down, Chris would have done it himself.

"These are important things to know!" Buck protested. 

"I'm sure," Inez laughed, enjoying these men and their foolishness.

After meeting them herself, she understood why her father cared for these men so much and asked her to pay special attention to their care in his establishment. It was equally pleasant they had become her extended family in America. They showed her the same regard as her late father with Ezra evolving into the protective older brother she never had, and Josiah, a surrogate father in Roberto's absence. Even Alex and Mary Travis when she was in town, provided Inez with the female friendships she missed since leaving the _Brigadas Feminanas_.

"Maybe another time, Senor." 

"I ain't gonna give up on you Miss Inez," Buck declared as she drifted towards the bar, watching her departure with longing. 

"Give it up Mr Wilmington," Ezra advised with a knowing smirk. "The lady is devoted to her son and has far too much sense to be swayed by your charms." 

Buck let out a sigh of disappointment but he was determined not to give up. Even as he watched her leave, brushing past Josiah who was approaching the table, Buck knew what he felt for her was no aberration. He knew the difference between the chase and genuine affection and what he felt for Inez was certainly the latter. His friends could make all the jokes they wanted, but he knew how he felt, and if it required a bit of patience, he could wait her out. 

Alex noticed his silence and was struck by the possibility his feelings for Inez may be something more profound. As much as they teased each other, she knew he had real affection for the women he bedded and always made clear his intentions to them. Still, she was aware of why Inez held not just Buck but all suitors at arm's length. Perhaps it was time Buck was told why Inez was keeping her distance, if only to give the widow some peace from his constant invitations. 

"Buck," Alex spoke up after a moment, "It's not that she doesn't want to date, she's not ready to believe she's a widow yet." 

"What?" Buck stared at her. "What does that mean?" 

"It means," Ezra agreed with Alex it was time to let Buck on this little bit of information for the sake of Buck’s sanity. "Her husband is missing, presumed dead. She does not know for certain." 

That was news to him. 

"What? How come I didn't know this?" Buck scowled at the faces of his friends in accusation. It was bad enough they hadn't said a word about Inez having a little boy, but this omission felt like a conspiracy. It also made his heart sink a little, realising that Inez was still mourning for her husband, who might not be dead at all, just missing. It explained the source of her sadness, not the loss of him but the lack of knowledge regarding his fate. 

"Roberto told me before he died," Josiah, who just returned to the table with his drink stated. "Inez's husband disappeared back in '32. He took off to Europe and never came back. He was supposed to have gone to Czechoslovakia for a translating job and disappeared. She tried finding him, but no luck since." 

As much as he detested the idea of her husband returning from the dead, Buck hated it more she was trapped in the limbo of not knowing. How could she move on if she had no answers? Nothing provoked Buck's nobler sentiments than coming to the aid of a lady. 

"So what are we doing about it?"

"We?" Vin stared at him, bewildered by the question. "What _can_ we do about it?"

"Come on!" Buck exclaimed all fired up, now that he had a quest to fulfil. "We chase things through history when no one has a clue where it might be! We do that almost every second week! You're telling me, we can’t find one missing husband?" 

Vin had to admit Buck did have a point. Thanks to their adventures across the globe, Chris and Ezra had contacts all over the place. Now with Mary and the resources of her paper available to them, it was possible they could help Inez solve her problem. 

"He's got a point," Vin glanced at Josiah and Ezra. 

"He does," Josiah agreed. "If he was supposed to take on a translation job, that narrows the field quite a bit, especially in our line of work." 

"See!" Buck said excitedly. "We can help her! I mean Ezra you got more friends in Europe than anyone at this table, Not to mention you date a spy." 

Ezra straightened up and looked around him, making sure no one heard that little morsel of truth before glaring at Buck again. "A little louder Mr Wilmington. CANADA did not hear you." 

"You know what I mean," Buck gave him a withering look. 

Ezra considered it silently for a moment. Under normal circumstances, he would be loathed to intrude on anyone's business, but if there was a chance he could get Inez the answers she needed, perhaps even help her find closure, then he was compelled to help. 

"Alright," he conceded defeat. "I'll see what we can do, but say nothing to Inez until we have something to offer her. The last thing I wish to do is disappoint Inez with any false hopes." 


	8. Saturday Night

He was supposed to be studying neo-Assyrian cuneiform.

Instead, he was peering over the top of the book he was studying, A.R George's translation of _Gilgamesh_ , at a girl. She was seated at the next table at the library, engrossed in a book almost as thick as the one he should be reading about the goddess Ishtar. Brown eyes scanned the yellowed pages of the leather-bound book, while her chestnut coloured hair was styled in a neat bob that suited her very well in JD's opinion. She wore a pink polka dot dress with pilgrim collar, with the cutest button nose he'd ever seen. 

So far, his gawking had gone unnoticed, and JD wondered what he would say if he actually spoke to her. Buck Wilmington had taught him everything there was to know about women, and shortly after that Ezra Standish told him to forget all of it. What worked for Buck was specific to a man with all the confidence in the world and the devil's own charm. It was not a one size fits all instruction, Ezra advised wisely. 

It was almost seven o'clock on a Saturday night, and though JD wished he could join the others at Paloma's, he'd done the responsible thing by coming to the library and studying for the exam he would have to take on Monday with Professor Travis. Even though he knew he would be travelling with Chris Larabee and the rest of his friends for the foreseeable future, JD still wanted to get his degree. His mother saved her hardest, going without so he could go to college, and JD intended to honour her wishes. Besides, the group ever retired, unlikely as that might be, JD wanted to continue his career in the field. 

He'd been here for most of the day, pouring over stacks of titles, scribbling notes and trying to apply some of what he'd seen abroad with the content of the books. After where he'd been at Chris's side, JD couldn't deny it felt painfully dull. Still, the work needed to be done, and he threw himself into it. He was doing fine until an hour ago when she walked in. 

The library at the University at Albuquerque was virtually empty on a Saturday night, with most of its students enjoying the weekend. JD hadn't expected anyone to be here, save one librarian who appeared to be conducting an overhaul of the filing system, so he had the place to himself. It was to his surprise when he heard the clacking of heels across the marble floor, followed by the sashaying of a full skirt as the girl walked by. Their eyes met briefly in acknowledgement as she passed him and went to the unoccupied table in front of his own. 

Now an hour later, he had yet to say a word, even though he'd tried out a few lines in his head for effect. None of them seemed right, and JD frowned, wondering if he ought to give up altogether and become a monk. 

"So, are you going to talk to me, or are you going to keep staring all night?" 

Her eyes had not shifted from the pages of her book, but there was no doubt the comment was meant for him. JD frowned, a little embarrassed at being caught staring and needed a few seconds to think of something witty to say. He didn't want to sound like a chump, but he didn't want to appear insincere either. 

"Well I was trying to figure out how to tell you, you've got something stuck in your teeth." 

_Where the hell had that come from?_ JD groaned inwardly. 

The comment made the girl look up at him in disbelief, before breaking into a smile. Not just any smile but a killer smile. _A bullet to the brain, waiter can I have the check, this goose is cooked, hold the phone_ smile that made his heart skip a beat. 

"Liar," she returned with a laugh. 

"Okay," JD smiled back, "you got me." 

The empty chair next to her shifted when she kicked one of its legs gently inviting him to join her. "We're not supposed to make noise in a library." 

"Right," JD got to his feet and took up the seat offered. "I'm JD." 

"Nice to meet you, JD," she offered him her hand. "I'm Casey." 

JD took it and felt another surge of excitement by the warmth of her palm against his. Up close, she was even prettier, and JD wondered what a girl like this was doing alone in a library on a Saturday night. Some fella must have asked her out, If she was his girl, JD knew he would not be leaving her to languish on date night.

"So I got a makeup exam to take on Monday so that's why I'm here, but you gotta have something better to do tonight?" 

"I like the library on Saturday nights," she returned. "It's quiet, I usually have the place to myself, and most of the reference books I need to study aren't checked out by anyone. What about you?"

"Oh, I don't have a choice," JD shrugged. "I have to sit for an Advance Classical Language exam on Monday. I'm just here boning up." 

"Advanced Classical Language?" She raised a brow in surprise. "I take that class. How come I've never seen you?"

"I don't come to classes," JD explained, feeling a little annoyed for once he wasn't attending classes like a typical college student. He would have liked to have seen her there. "I do work for the university that keeps me out of town most of the time. Professor Travis fixed it so I only have to hand in the assignments and take the exams." 

"Oh my Aunt Nettie works for someone who does the same thing..." she started to say when JD cut her off realising who she was talking about. 

"No kidding! Nettie Wells is your aunt?" JD exclaimed in wonder at realising she was the niece of the no-nonsense army nurse he saw on the few visits to Chris Larabee's ranch. "I work with Chris Larabee."

"You work with Mr Larabee?" Her eyes widened in excitement. "I've been living at the dorm for the last few months, but I go out to his ranch sometimes. Usually when Nettie needs help cleaning up the place when he's gone." 

"Wow," JD leaned back in his chair, marvelling how small the world could be. "I can’t believe we never ran into each other." 

'We have now," she flashed a look of radiance. "I guess I'll have to go up there more often." 

"Me too," he grinned, suddenly no longer interested in Assyrian cuneiform. "So how long do you plan on hanging around here?"

Casey smiled, closing her book and eyeing him coyly. "Depends." 

"On what?" 

"On what you have in mind. Though I got to be back at my dorm by ten."

JD remembered that for girls, they had to be indoors by ten o'clock although he'd dated one or two who knew how to sneak back into their rooms after curfew. It didn't matter. He liked Casey and didn't want to get into trouble. Girls could get expelled if caught breaking curfew and having almost suffered such a fate himself, JD didn't wish to risk her academic future on their first date. 

Besides, three hours was plenty of time to go someplace fun and get her back to her dorm in time.

"That's fine," JD agreed, getting to his feet and extending his hand to help her stand. "I got a motorcycle, I can get you back in plenty of time." 

"A motorcycle?" She paused gathering up her books and gave him a long look. "You know Aunt Nettie says I ought to be careful with fellas riding those things. They might be dangerous." 

"Dangerous, huh?" JD laughed, liking the sound of that. "Believe me, after what I've seen, a motorcycle is the _least_ dangerous thing in my life." 

* * *

While everyone was enjoying the evening downstairs, Buck Wilmington took the opportunity to slip away. 

He'd spotted Inez leaving the counter shortly after her song, assigning the bartending duties to one of the girls she employed to slip upstairs. He gave her about fifteen minutes before he followed her up, not wishing to intrude in her time with little Benny. Since learning about her husband's disappearance, Buck had wanted to apologise, realising just how difficult it had to be for her. He'd had front row tickets for Chris's bereavement after Sarah and Adam had died, and knew it had to be worse for her, not knowing if her husband was alive or dead. 

It made him somewhat embarrassed by his behaviour towards her to date. 

No matter how misjudged he was by his friends regarding the lady, Buck knew his heart. It was not something given away lightly. The first time he saw Inez, he was done for. _Hook, line and sinker_. Approaching her, however, was no easy thing. She wasn't like the women he usually dated. This one had depths he could not fathom, and tonight, he realised how much of it was due to pain. Fortunately, dealing with people suffering from an unimaginable loss was something Buck had plenty of experience. 

Leaving behind the music and chatter below, he ascended the steps to see Inez emerge from Benny's room, having just said goodnight to her little boy by the looks of it. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of him, and Buck guessed she thought he'd come up here to make some lame attempt to get another date. Her annoyance was justified even if her conclusion was wrong. 

"Senor Wilmington," her tone was not quite hard, but it was definitely hostile, and Buck couldn't blame her for it. He hadn't given her any reason to expect this private audience would be about anything other than another attempt to get her to go out with him. 

"Inez, can I talk to you a second?" He asked, gesturing towards the suite of rooms the seven used as their private den. 

"I really don't have time for this," Inez returned, thinking the man had to be crossing some boundaries by following her upstairs like this. While she found him attractive and funny, often intriguing, there were claims to her heart she was not ready to give up, and his advances only drove it home more. 

"I know," he nodded, "but I'd appreciate it. I swear, I don't plan on making any moves or giving you a line, I just have something to say in private." 

Now she was curious because his tone was different than what she had become accustomed to from him. There was no charm or mischief in it, just sincerity and it surprised Inez how affecting that was. Then again, this was how Bernado won her heart, by being sincere. Shaking the notion out of her head, Inez ignored her baser instinct and decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. 

"Alright," she agreed with a nod and followed Buck into the suite. 

Thanks to Ezra Standish's silent partnership with her father, Paloma's had remained afloat during the worst years of the Crash. After Inez's arrival, Ezra had given the business a fresh infusion of cash in exchange for the use of the unoccupied rooms above the bar. It allowed her to improve her father's apartment into something more suitable for herself and Benny as well as make some much-needed improvements. In exchange for his investment, Ezra had converted the empty rooms into a private lounge for himself and his friends, where they could gather to talk business. 

Stepping inside the room with Buck, she wondered what was on his mind. She didn’t think it was not some crass attempt to make a pass at her. 

"Buck, what is this about?" She asked when the doors inside the well-decorated room with leather upholstery, oak panelling, new carpet and fixture, including a wagon wheel chandelier that filled the place with a warm glow after Buck switched on the lights. 

"Look," he exhaled loudly, aware her patience like her temper operated on a very short fuse. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I didn't know your husband was missing. I figured you were a widow, but I had no idea he was still out there somewhere." 

Inez was touched by the apology, and she wondered how he learned about Bernado. Perhaps her father Roberto had been keeping an eye on her and was aware of Bernado's absence. He might have revealed it to Josiah with whom he had a close friendship. In any case, it was no secret. 

"He is dead Buck," she said firmly. 

"Well you can't say for certain," Buck countered, not wanting to rob her of all hope even though it was more than likely. "There could be a dozen reasons why he hasn't come back to you. The world's a big place with a lot of crazy going on right now. He might have gotten caught up in it." 

"No," she shook her head, thinking of the shy young man who listened to her sing and promised her he could give her nothing but his love because the war had taken everything else. She remembered the tears in his eyes the first time he held his son in his hands. Bernado would have fought tooth and nail to come home to her. 

"He is gone Buck," she repeated herself and then saw the sympathy in his eyes. "If there was breath left in his body, he would have come home to me. This much I know." 

Buck wanted to tell her that after their conversation tonight, Ezra was going to use his contacts to see what he could learn about her husband's disappearance, especially after he saw the anguish in her eyes. However, the possibility Ezra might come up empty changed his mind. He didn't want to see Inez disappointed by giving her false hope. Instead, Buck went to one of the cabinets against the wall and reached for the decanter of cognac Ezra left there with several snifters. He poured them both a drink, suspecting she needed it. 

By now, Inez had drifted to one of the leather wing chairs and sat down. This was not an easy subject to discuss and now that she had opened up, was left drained. Bernado's loss still burdened her and it surprised her how talking to Buck Wilmington of all people, had helped. When he returned and handed her a glass of cognac, Inez took a sip, feeling the malt taste of the liquor comforting. 

"I needed that," she looked at him when he took the chair across her. 

"I'm guessing you don't talk about it much?" 

She was like Chris in that way, except Inez used her pain to keep going while Chris had deconstructed because of his. Women seemed to handle sorrow better than men, Buck thought. Perhaps because they weren't afraid of admitting their emotions, while men were taught from birth to conceal theirs. All it did was create a timebomb of grief inside them that would eventually explode. 

"No," Inez admitted. "I know he's dead Buck, I know it but I can't...." 

"Let him go?" Buck ventured a guess.

"Yes," she nodded, dropping her gaze to the carpet because hearing him call her out on it made her relive the hurt. "I never could." 

"It's okay," Buck resisted the urge to touch her because this aspect of their relationship was new and he had no wish to push before she was ready to accept such a gesture. "I know how it feels to lose someone, maybe not like your husband, but I have lost people I care for, and it's never easy." 

"You do?" She looked up at him curiously. 

Buck nodded slowly and took a sip of cognac before looking at the door to the suite to assure himself no one would interrupt. "When Chris was still with the army, he had to leave home a lot. By the time Adam was born, Sarah wanted a permanent home, so he got them base housing. He could be gone for weeks at a time, and I'd call in on Sarah, just to check in on her and Adam. I was flying private by then so I could come and go as I pleased, which helped at home because Sarah was alone with Adam a lot." 

"You mean you and Sarah?" Inez's eyes widened, convinced if Chris knew this Buck would be going through life without the use of his limbs and several major organs.

Buck caught her meaning and laughed. "Nothing like that. I want to keep breathing. We were just friends. She was an army brat because of her dad, and I think she liked talking to someone who wasn't. Sometimes I took them away from the barracks for the day, you know just to give her some breathing room, especially when she was missing Chris." 

He fell silent thinking about the talks they'd had at her kitchen table where Sarah would serve tea in delicate china cups that were passed down to her from her mother. To this day, he couldn't touch the stuff because it didn't feel right drinking it without Sarah.

"Being around Sarah and Adam," Buck recouped after a moment and saw Inez understood all too well what emotions were churning inside him, “made me think being married wasn't so bad and could do it too. She made me understand with the right person, it could be easy to love having a family." 

"It can be," Inez agreed, remembering the place she had been when she met Bernado. She was a freedom fighter, running ammunition and secret messages from camp to camp, with real dangers facing her every day. Bernado made her want more, like sharing a life with him. She could tell Buck wasn't just regurgitating a line for her benefit. 

"And then just like that they were gone," Buck's voice dropped an octave as he surfaced feelings he'd kept buried for so long. "Chris was just...." he couldn't say it, but then he didn't have to.

Like everyone else who knew him, Chris wore his grief like a second skin. Even now, with Mary in his life, there was no hiding the sadness that masked itself as his brooding persona. 

"I was scared as hell he was going to kill himself. It's taken five years to rebuild him, sometimes with my help and sometimes without. In all that time, I had to forget that I cared about Sarah too because if I did, I wouldn't be able to help Chris through all that pain." 

This much about him she knew, hearing the talk from the others how Buck had kept Chris Larabee from total deconstruction.

"So you didn't even get a chance to mourn them," Inez realised then just how much he hid for the benefit of his friends. He always seemed to be the life of the party, the one who ensured everyone was taken care of. Chris protected them, but Buck was the keeper of their spirit. Until now, she never realised how seriously he took that role. 

"Chris needed me," Buck shrugged as if that would explain everything and it did really. 

It surprised Inez how much she liked talking to him. She supposed this was how he charmed all those women into his bed, but she suspected the Buck she was speaking to now, was one few had ever seen. 

"I still dream about him, Buck. Even though I tell myself he is dead, I still hope that maybe, he is not. Sometimes when I look at Benny, I pray to God that maybe Bernado will come through my door and give us both a reason why he disappeared, but it's a foolish hope. It's the not knowing he is dead that is so terrible and I think this too, is what Chris feels. It's knowing in your heart, even without seeing a body, they are gone forever. "

Buck said nothing to that, noticing the moisture in her eyes at that revelation. He suspected she'd never told anyone this truth and instinctively he reached inside his coat to give her his handkerchief. Inez accepted it without hesitation, dabbing away the tears. After a moment, she looked up at him composed and back to her old self. 

"Senor Wilmington," she said with a little smile. "Perhaps tonight is the night we should have that date." 

"How about just a drink for now?" Buck refused to take advantage of her when she was feeling vulnerable. "Although if you get me drunk, the sky's the limit." 

"Oh, shut up," Inez laughed, but she was smiling when she said it. 


	9. Abduction

**MOSCOW - 1935**

_Bernado Recillos._

It was a name from the past Grigory Fedulev would have liked to have forgotten. To this day, the man continued to be a thorn in his side. Even though the colonel who encountered Recillos was now a general, with the OGPU folded into the NKVD, Bernardo provoked chagrin every time his name surfaced. Recillos represented the one thing Fedulev could never tolerate in others or himself. 

Failure.

Burying the fool in an unmarked grave somewhere in the wilderness of Siberia had been Fedulev's way of forgetting the man existed or what he represented. For the most part, it worked, Fedulev had left the dank, blood-stench interrogation room where Recillos met his end and moved onto other challenges. He was promoted to general following the collapse of the OCPU. Instead of becoming a victim of reshuffling so favoured by bureaucrats everywhere, he was not discarded like the rest of his comrades. They'd given him a leadership position, and he continued to do good work, suppressing the dissidents corrupted by western excesses. 

But Recillos still haunted him. 

Not because he felt any remorse for being the instrument of the man's death. Not in the slightest. Fedulev was grateful to send the stubborn _piz`da_ to his grave. No, Fedulev regretted not making him suffer such exquisite agony Recillos would have been grateful to relinquish all his secrets. Instead, Feduelv let the man die too quickly, taking with him the vital clue he needed to recover the prize that still remained unrecovered. 

The jewel. 

Two years after the fact, the vital amulet had not surfaced. For a time, Recillos's wife had been watched, but it was clear she had no idea where her husband had gone, not if the inquiries made after his disappearance were any indication. With no clues to follow, Fedulev was forced to move on, and with the internal strife taking place between Trotsky loyalists and the government, the matter of the amulet was forgotten. Still, it made Fedulev bristle with annoyance to think about it, for he was not a man who was comfortable with failure. 

He stared out of the window of his office in the Lubyanka building, observing people going about their business across the paved square. In the distance, he could see the ornate beauty of the Zaikonospassky Monastery in its neo-classical glory. No longer a place of worship, these days it was home to a television station since the Soviet had no use for houses of worship. Fortunately, the Bolshoi Theatre, the grand old lady of Moscow was still the home to the most splendid ballet company in the world. 

A sharp rap against his done drew him away from the sunshine outside, and Fedulev put aside his debate about where he would spend his lunch. Who was behind this intrusion? He had no appointments this morning and had intended to study the field reports delivered to him this morning. 

"Enter." 

The door swung open and behind it was Captain Oblonsky, his chief aide. Still a brutish bear of a man with large hands who never seemed comfortable in his uniform, Oblonsky was a loyal second with little ambitions of his own. Fedulev suspected it was easier for him to assist a great man than to try to be one himself because Oblonsky knew his limitations. He served better as a blunt instrument than as a tactician. 

"What is it, Leonid?" 

Oblonsky’s expression was part excitement, part disbelief, two emotions the man very rarely showed. It was his lack of human expression that allowed him to intimidate most people and Fedulev had to admit some surprise to seeing his mask shaken. "We have had inquiries about Bernando Recillos." 

Fedulev turned sharply, wondering if it was fate that the man's name was brought up after Fedulev had been thinking about him. "From where?" 

"America," Oblonsky replied, having a complete report ready because the General did not like to have information fed to him in snippets. "Our sources in Poland tell us inquiries were made at the Consulate by someone from the Jagiellonian University, a Doctor Jakub Nowak. I sent our agents to follow up, and after interrogation, Comrade Nowak admitted an old acquaintance of his, an Ezra Standish of America, asked about Recillos and whether he might have been conducting translation work in Warsaw." 

"Who is _this_ American?" 

"According to Doctor Nowak, Standish is a part of a group of antiquities hunters who have quite the reputation for finding priceless artifacts. Many of the universities in Europe and the Middle East have been employing their services. Standish's group might be hunting for the jewel." 

"They cannot find the jewel without the amulet," Fedulev snorted, but then again all attempts to retrieve the thing had been fruitless. Was it possible it was because Recillos sent it somewhere it never occurred to them to search, like America? "Although, if they found it and did not know what they had, it might be why they are trying to find Recillos." 

"What do we do Comrade General?" Oblonsky asked. "Shall I send our agents to America? Standish and his team come from a place called Albuquerque." 

"Yes," Fedulev nodded, "but you will go with them. If Standish knows where the amulet is, I trust you can convince him to talk." 

"It will be done, Comrade General," Oblonsky was perfectly willing to make the journey. 

As the man who killed Bernado Recillos, he too hated the waste of a good killing when nothing resulted from it. The amulet and the jewel's whereabouts was still a mystery. If it was a mystery Ezra Standish could solve, he was more than happy to ensure the man did just that.

This time, Oblonskly would not let Ezra Standish die until he'd revealed all his secrets. 

* * *

**TWO WEEKS LATER**

_Who's that little chatterbox?_

_The one with pretty auburn locks?_

_Whom do you see?_

_It's Little Orphan Annie._

_She and Sandy make a pair,_

_They never seem to have a care!_

_Cute little she,_

_This Little Orphan Annie._

_Bright eyes cheeks a rosy glow,_

_There's a store of healthiness handy._

_Mite-size, always on the go,_

_If you want to know - "Arf", says Sandy._

_Always wears a sunny smile,_

_Now, wouldn't it be worth the while,_

_If you could be,_

_Like Little Orphan Annie?_

Josiah paused as he walked past the door of Inez's apartment on his way to the upstairs den where the rest of the seven were gathered to discuss what their next job would be. Since the room had been converted to their use, Chris Larabee had called impromptu meetings so they could talk about the jobs they had lined up. While Chris usually picked their jobs, the increased number of expeditions lately made Chris feel the need to gain his friends' opinion before he made his final decision.

The music he heard through the door was crackling and loud, enough to capture his attention. The former seminary student recalled seeing Inez downstairs getting ready for the evening crowd. Checking his watch, Josiah realised it was after four so little Benny was at home. He liked the boy, even if he was prone to getting into trouble. Inez believed it was due to the lack of a male influence in his life until now, Although Josiah wondered if his eclectic friends were really the best role models for a seven-year-old. 

Josiah twisted the doorknob to the apartment and widened the crack in the door just enough to peer inside to ensure the boy wasn't getting up to mischief. It was something he and Ezra were happy to do for Inez, aware it could not be easy juggling the stewardship of the bar and being a mother to a young child. Despite Ezra’s claims to the contrary, the team's procurer had a real way with children and often babysat for Benny, even if he claimed it was a waste of his 'God-given talents'. 

The music was coming from a contraption of corkboard, wire and thumbtacks. It took Josiah a second to process what it was Benny had built on the rug where he was sprawled. It was a crude device no doubt, but Josiah recognised the copper wire wrapped around a wooden spool, the paper clips twisted out of shape and the razorblade turned blue from heat. The theme song of ' _Little Orphan Annie_ ' was coming out of what appeared to be the removed receiver from an old telephone. A radio.

The kid had built a _radio_. 

"Hey Benny," Josiah greeted, watching Benny trying to tune the thing with the small pencil he had attached to the razor blade flattened against the board. "You built this?" 

Benny, who was fixated on what he was doing, didn't look up at Josiah, more interested in his creation. "Uh huh." 

Josiah dropped to his knees, fascinated by the simplicity of the design and noticed the cannibalised candlestick phone Inez had recently replaced with a newer rotary model. Benny had used its components for his construction and Josiah had to admit to being impressed since Benny was just seven years old. 

"You figure this out all by yourself?"

Benny pointed to a magazine lying face down across the floor, a few feet away from his rug. Josiah lifted his chin and realised it was a copy of _Popular Mechanics_ , with the words 'How to Build a Radio' proudly declaring its culpability in Benny's activities. The boy sat up straighter and frowned, his small face showing his unhappiness at what he built, even if the scratchy sound coming from the receiver proved it worked. 

"The wire needs to go higher," Benny looked up at Josiah then. At present, the wire drawing the signal to the receiver went as far as the window, but it was clear it needed to go outside. 

"Why don't you open the window?" Josiah suggested.

"Can't," Benny shook his head. "Not allowed."

Josiah could understand that. The apartment stood two storeys above the ground, and a fall from this height would seriously harm a child. The transom window allowing air into the place was too high for Benny to reach so the boy had to make do. Josiah made a mental note to ask Inez if she would like him to put up some safety rails against the windows. When Roberto had lived here, Josiah doubted the man had given much thought for making the place safe for a child. 

"You try building anything else?'

"Yeah," Benny shook his head. "Wanted to make my go-cart faster, but mama won't let me touch the lawn mower. Don't think it will work though. Could make my wheels go melty." 

Josiah suppressed a little smile, understanding that even a small horsepower engine might be more than a simple kids go-cart could handle. Still, the thinking that allowed Benny to reach that conclusion proved Inez might have a little prodigy on her hands. 

"Well, maybe if your mother lets you, you can come with me to my workshop sometime. We'll see if we can find wheels with better tread." 

Benny's eyes sparkled. "Really?"

"Yeah," Josian nodded. "Leave it to me and make sure you don't build anything that catches fire. Your mother will not be happy to know how you got that razor blade to turn blue." 

Guilt immediately showed on Benny's face because mama took the rules about fire and matches very seriously, especially after that attempt to make fireworks in their bathtub.

His butt was _still_ sore. 

"Okay, uncle Josiah." He nodded and went back to his thoughts about how he could make the radio work better.

Without blowing up anything this time. 

* * *

When Inez saw Buck was the last of the seven to depart for the evening, she wondered if the man had something in mind that involved her. If so, she thought as she wiped down the bar and continued the process of closing Paloma's for the night, he was going to be disappointed.

Aside from the fact she'd been on her feet all day, the temporary vulnerability she displayed the night they spoke about Bernardo, embarrassed her the next morning. Still, his refusal to take her up on the invitation revealed to Inez there was more to Buck than his notorious womanising reputation. While she was nowhere ready to date anyone, because there were still too many wounds left behind by Bernado's disappearance, Inez could not deny feeling warmly towards Buck. 

In fact, she rather liked the place they were at right now, where every second word to her was not a proposition, and they actually carried on conversations. Since learning about the status of her widowhood, Buck had allowed her to use him as a shoulder to cry on, recognising the sadness that crept into her eyes when she thought no one noticed. She suspected his so-called prowess with the opposite sex might be due to his empathy for their feelings. 

Buck approached Inez at the bar, trying to decide how he was going to deliver the news he was about to give her. It had been a slow few weeks because of Chris's injury and also because they had earned enough for a rest. Taking advantage of the time, Ezra had used his sources from abroad, not to mention Julia, to make inquiries about Bernardo Recillos. When Ezra gave him the information he'd gathered today, Buck debated telling Inez. Buck wasn’t sure he wanted to tarnish Inez's image of her husband, but then again, she also needed to know why her searc in Europe had come to nothing.

"Inez, can we talk?" 

Inez paused what she was doing immediately and looked up from the counter. His tone was devoid of its usual flirtation or humour, and that caught her attention. 

"What is it, Buck?" 

Buck drew in a breath and let it out before answering, "it's about Bernardo." 

Of all the things he could have said to her, that statement was one that caught her immediately by surprise. "What do you mean? What about Bernado?"

Buck leaned against the counter and met her eyes. "When I found out you never knew what happened to him, I asked Ezra to do some digging. Ezra's got a lot of friends in Europe, not to mention Julia. If anyone could get you some answers, I thought it would be him." 

"Did he?" She tried not to sound hopeful because being in sight of the truth was something she dreamed about and did not wish for another disappointment. 

Inez was a realist. She knew Bernardo was dead, she could feel it. Yet how it happened still gnawed at her. However, Inez had to admit it never occurred to ask Ezra for help although now that she thought of it, it made perfect sense. "Did you find anything?" 

Buck could see the effect this was having on her and kept going, aware delaying would be torturous after so many years of darkness. "We know he arrived in Warsaw but Inez, he was never there for a translating job."

"But he said he had a job at a university...." she started to say and then fell silent because it was clear from the minute she began her search for him after his disappearance, not everything he told her was the truth. 

"No, not any university," Buck continued, "but we did find that soon after he arrived in Warsaw, he went across the border." 

"To where?"

"Russia." 

"Russia?" Inez stared at Buck mystified. "What was he doing there? Bernado could not speak Russian!"

"We're not sure, but he didn't go there for any translation job. Julia managed to get some information from a checkpoint between Poland and Belarus. He crossed over into the Soviet Union less than a week after arriving in Warsaw. Whatever he was doing there, he wasn't translating."

Inez was about to question him further when something clicked in her head, something that did not register until this moment. Dread and realisation flooded her eyes. "Come with me." 

"What is it?" Buck asked, realising something had come to her.

"I'm not sure," she said as she headed to the edge of the bar.

She had almost emerged from behind it when a loud thud through the ceiling above startled them. Inez froze in her tracks as she and Buck's eyes shot upward in surprise. 

"MAMA!" 

Benny's sudden scream revealed an Inez Buck had never seen before. 

"BENNY?" She cried out just before leaping over the bar counter like a gymnast, paying little mind to the glasses and ashtrays she sent tumbling to the floor. The recently polished counter meant she slid across the smooth surface, landing on her feet before she bolted towards the staircase. It took a second for Buck to recover before he went after her, reeling slightly by her quick reflexes. 

"Benny, I'm coming!"

Above their heads, more thuds were heard against the ceiling, and Buck knew immediately that Benny wasn't alone up there. Paloma's had unwanted guests, and they were up there with a child who was crying for his mother in terror. Whether Inez heard any of this mattered little. The woman raced up the stairs, driven by the maternal instincts of a grizzly bear about to protect her cub.

"Inez! Hold up!" Boone called after her. Not that he had any hope of getting her to hold back, but the warning was to remind her whoever was up there knew they were coming. 

Inez ignored him and kept going, reaching the top of the landing first. She had just enough time to register the man standing in the hallway, aiming the barrel of a Soviet-made PPD-40 machine gun in her direction. The split-second pause where both parties faced each other was all the time Buck had to grab Inez by the waist and yank her back before the PPD exploded in a roar of deafening gunfire.

They tumbled down the staircase in an unruly tangle, narrowly avoiding the spray of gunfire that tore into the wall and window behind the top landing. Splinters and glass rained down on them as they landed hard against the floor, with Buck feeling it most acutely because Inez was on top of him. Nevertheless, Buck registered the pause in the shooting because the enemy was coming after them.

"Inez we gotta move!"

Shaking off her disorientation, Inez rolled onto her knees and launched herself towards the bar like a runner who just heard the starter pistol. Leaving Buck behind because she was sure he would not be long after her, she jumped over the bar again. They both dove behind its safety, chased by a renewed barrage of gunfire. Bullets tore into the counter, shattering the glass shelves behind the bar, destroying anything in its path. 

"Make yourself useful!" Inez shoved a Browning handgun in his direction.

Buck took the weapon and pulled back the hammer, ready to fire when he saw Inez stand up during the pause in gunfire when the shooter reloaded.

"Inez!" He was about to shout at her warning when he saw what was in her grip. 

Their would-be killer had assumed they were helpless and Buck wondered what his reaction would have been if he knew what was coming when Inez stood up. Buck peered over the counter just in time to hear the distinct sound of a shotgun being primed. 

BOOM!

The single blast from the Remington Model 20 was all that was needed to send the man sprawling, his chest a ruin of flesh from the spray of pellets. The force of the shot threw him across the table, its legs collapsing beneath the weight. Inez did not waste any time to check to see if she was dead, once again emerging from the counter, now covered in glass, splinters of wood and debris from the destruction of the PPD's gunfire. 

"Jesus Christ," Buck stared at her, deciding then and there that if they ever dated, he was _never_ pissing her off. 

"MAMA!" 

Benny's cry halted Inez's progress to the staircase, and both she and Buck exchanged glances when they realised Benny was no longer upstairs. He was outside.

This time it was Buck who got to the main doors of Paloma's first, while Inez had to double back to join him. Emerging into the night air, a dark sedan with the engine running was waiting in the empty parking lot. Two men in dark suits shoved Benny through the open door of the back passenger seat. 

"MAMA! HELP ME!" 

Buck started shooting, unable to aim at the men because with Benny struggling hard to break free of them, Buck couldn't get a clear shot without risking harm to the boy. Instead, he adjusted his aim, intending to shoot out the tires before they could take off. He squeezed off one round when another shooter leaned out of the window, also armed with a PPD. 

"BENNY!" Inez screamed as she appeared through the door and was quickly forced to duck for cover when the hail of bullets was unleashed. 

Both of them were driven to the ground, with Inez forced to watch helplessly as Benny disappeared into the car. Meanwhile, lying on his stomach, Buck returned fire, compelling the shooter back into the vehicle. However, the instant his companions had slammed the door shut behind them, the idling engines roared to life. As the wheels rolled forward, Buck jumped to his feet, continuing to shoot, hoping one of his bullets met its mark, but with the darkness and the widening gap between them, the car continued to roar away. 

Buck refused to give up, not until every last bullet in his gun was fired but that moment came soon enough, and as the vehicle picked up speed, the gleam of its tail light continued to diminish. By the time the click of an empty chamber was heard, there was nothing left of the vehicle but points or vanishing red in the night. 

"NO!" Inez ran past Buck, having dropped the shotgun on the ground, refusing to give up.

"Inez! He's gone!" Buck raced after her, feeling his heart torn at her anguished wail, part fury and despair. He grabbed her by the arm, trying to stop her from going any further because he needed to get the others together so they could go after little Benny before Inez did it herself. Right now, she was just driven enough to do that. 

"NO!" She whirled around and snapped at him, her face wet with tears. "They've got my baby! I have to find him! I can't lose him...!"

"Inez I know," Buck tried to calm her while staring into the night where the car had vanished feeling bitter disappointment at failing to get Benny back. "We'll get him back, I promise."

As she started to weep, Buck drew her to him, shouldering her anguished sobs, while having the terrible suspicion he might have caused this abduction by trying to help find the truth about Bernardo Recillos. 

  
  



	10. Leverage

Less than an hour later, after the police had come and gone with statements taken, and the coroner's wagon carting away the dead body left behind, Chris Larabee was able to get to the bottom of what took place at Paloma's tonight. Experience told them it was best to let the police know as little as possible when they were so much in the dark themselves. If not for the need to explain the corpse on the main floor of the bar, Chris would have preferred they not be involved at all. Instinct told him Benny's abduction might be beyond the ability of local law enforcement to deal with. 

The main floor of the bar was in shambles, the devastation caused by the power of a submachine gun marking the walls in bullet holes with fragments of shattered bottles and glasses covering the polished wood floor. While the dead body was gone, blood spots marked the place where it had been. Buck's call had rallied them all to Paloma's within twenty minutes. 

"We have to do something!" Inez continued the rant that began as soon as the police left the bar. She paced the debris-covered floor in front of the bar counter, crushing glass and wood beneath her stomping feet. Inez was itching to find her son but had no idea where to begin. The inability to do anything stoked her fear into white-hot panic no one in the room could blame her for. 

"Inez, darlin', we're gonna find him," Buck, leaning against the bar, tried to assure her. He fought his desire to approach because if she proved anything tonight, this woman was far stronger than anyone had imagined her to be.

"I still don't understand why they took him!"

"Leverage," Chris stated. The leader of the seven mostly healed now faced the distraught woman, trying to be kind but recognising her need for answers. If it were his own child, Chris would want the same consideration. 

"Leverage?" Vin, who with JD who was helping to clean up the shambles after the firefight, paused in mid sweep at that statement. "He's just a kid." 

"No better way to get our attention," Buck retreated behind the bar and grabbed one of the few remaining bottles of liquor not destroyed by the Russian PPD-40 to pour himself a drink. "These bastards know we'll do anything to get him back." He met Inez's eyes to show her his words were spoken in earnest. It was true. They would do everything in their power to return little Benny to his mother. 

"What is it they want?" JD asked while he gathered up broken pieces of furniture so they could take it out to the trash.

"That's what we got to figure out," Chris directed his statement at the frantic mother. "Inez, do you have any ideas?"

The question dissipated the storm of panic in Inez's head, giving her focus as she reminded herself before she was a mother and a bartender, she was someone else. She was a soldier of the _Brigadas Feminanas_ , who often went into enemy territory, who could handle guns and explosives, who was in combat for almost three years. That fierce resistance fighter needed to return if Inez wanted to retrieve Benny. 

"Buck told me tonight, you were helping me find out what happened to Bernardo," she returned Chris's question with one of her own.

"We were?" Chris eyed his friends, unaware this was happening. Then again, he'd been stuck at his ranch the last few weeks because the muscle damage done by those monstrosities in Australia required he remained immobile to recover fully. 

"Yeah," Buck admitted. "We figured with Ezra's connections, we might find out what happened to Inez's husband." 

It was a good idea, and Chris felt a little embarrassed he never considered offering their help before this. Roberto had been a good friend. The seven accepted their daughter and his grandson into their circle because of their affection for him. Besides, Chris knew what it was like to lose a wife. He couldn't imagine anything worse than having a question mark looming over the cause of her death. 

"What did you find out?" 

"Well according to Ezra," Buck repeated what he told Inez earlier before all this insanity started. "He found out Bernado didn't have any kind of translation job in Warsaw. He was last seen crossing the border into Russia." 

"Well that explains the hardware then," Vin stated having taken a look at the gun the assailant had used before the police bagged it for evidence. "Ezra might have kicked up a hornet's nest he wasn't meant to."

"Yeah," Buck frowned, realising that this could all be his fault. "I'm sorry Inez, I really thought we were helping you."

If this had come about because of inquiries about Bernardo, then she was guilty of the same thing. She had asked similar questions when he first went missing. What if these men had come after her then? At least now she had resources, friends who were willing to help her. "It's not your fault Buck. You were trying to help, and I do appreciate it, even if it might have brought these men to my door." 

Footsteps descending the staircase soon revealed Josiah and Ezra's arrival. The two of them had been upstairs examining Benny's room after the police were done with it. Their return coincided with Nathan's appearance from the kitchen where he'd brewed a pot of coffee for those who needed something to keep their heads clear at this hour. Most of them were on their way home from Palomas or there already when Buck's call had come. 

"It appears our intruders were uninterested in the rest of the premises," Ezra announced having checked their belongings in the den upstairs and aside from some minor damage from the gunfire outside the room, it was unscathed. 

"They only wanted the boy," Josiah frowned, although he carried a curious construction of board, wire and paperclips in his hand. "They didn't take anything else." 

"Yeah that's what I thought when I looked around," Chris thought when he had gone up earlier and was glad to have someone else confirm his findings, even though he was pretty sure he hadn't missed anything. "All we can do right now is wait." 

"Wait?" Inez stared at him, about to demand an explanation when Chris spoke. 

"They took Benny for leverage, Inez. Chances are its because they want something. I don't think they'll make us wait too long to tell before they tell us what that is." 

"Josiah, what have you got there?" JD inquired as Josiah joined Chris at the table. 

"This is Benny's radio," Josiah replied, staring at the device thoughtfully. 

Inez uttered a choked sob before turning away from the men, hiding just how overwhelmed she was by emotion. Nathan, who was about to offer her coffee, set down the cup and patted her gently on the shoulder in a sign of comfort. 

"He built a radio?" JD exclaimed, impressed. "Hey, that's pretty neat."

"By himself?" Vin asked, just as surprised. 

"He's always building things," Inez gave Nathan a grateful smile as she dried the damp from her face. "He tried to make fireworks once and blew up the bathtub. My mama was so angry, but he was not foolish about it, he did it somewhere he could not harm himself."

"It appears you might be raising a prodigy," Ezra smiled, thinking of the boy he had gone quite fond of. Benny had shown exceptional skill with mathematics, an ability Ezra discovered when he taught the kid how to play cards. 

"It's not just that," Josiah spoke up. "He used a razor blade to tune the radio. That's gone." 

Chris sat up at that. "Gone?"

"Yeah," Josiah nodded. "I think he took it off this thing before they kidnapped him." 

"What's he gonna do with that?" JD asked. 

Josiah stared at the radio in his hands. "I'm not sure, but I suspect it will be interesting." 

* * *

When he read Oblonsky's report, Fedulev was struck with inspiration. 

The more he read about Chris Larabee and his team, who so far managed to acquire a plethora of impressive artifacts since entering the antiquities scene five years earlier, the more Fedulev concluded this was not a man to bet against. Most recently, Larabee's defeated enemies included one of Hitler's favourites and a wealthy capitalist dog, and Fedulev had no wish to join their ranks. He was also unwilling to expend resources in pursuit of a man who knew his craft better than Fedulev's own men who were soldiers. 

Finding the amulet was only just one step, and before Bernardo Recillos had stolen it, Fedulev knew he had only the first piece of a larger puzzle. It's secrets needed to be unravelled to find the prize and Fedulev decided Larabee was just the man to do it. Of course, Fedulev was astute enough to recognise American morality when he saw it. No doubt Larabee's connection to Recillos' widow meant the relic hunter would guess how the man had died, ensuring any request to locate the artifact on behalf of the Soviet state would be refused. 

Until Oblonsky reported Recillos had a son. 

After reading up on Larabee's history, Fedulev suspected Larabee would not allow the child of a friend to be harmed, in fact, none of his men would permit it. With this in mind, he instructed Oblonsky to act. As always, Oblonsky carried out his duty with excellence. While the extraction was nowhere as smooth as it could have been, the child was in their hands and with him, Larabee's eventual capitulation. 

* * *

After finishing her shift at the hospital, Alex arrived at Paloma's at Chris's request. Although the young doctor was understandably tired, she was quick to come to Inez's side. Even if Inez displayed a stronger than expected reaction to Benny's abduction, anyone who knew her well could see the fractures forming in her strong demeanour. It led Chris to the conclusion she shouldn't be left alone after they left Palomas.

Vin tended to agree, aware when he and the others were off on their expeditions, Alex and Inez spent time together. With Mary splitting her time between Albuquerque and New York these days, Alex didn't know anyone else in the city. Besides, both Inez and Alex were independent, career gals who found common ground in each other's company. 

"So we have no idea what Bernardo was doing in Russia?" Alex asked after being appraised of the night’s events.

"He said he was conducting a translation job," Inez whispered. The effect of a mother's anguish was taking its toll on her, and it showed by her deflated mood. It wasn't just little Benny's abduction which left her bereft but the reality that Bernardo not only lied to her but may have gotten himself killed because of it. 

From where he was, Buck tried to hide his concern, but they were nowhere at the point in their relationship where he could offer her comfort, not that there could be any while Benny was missing. Instead, he turned his attention to solving the mystery of why the boy was abducted at all and remembered Inez had wanted to show him something before the shooting had broken out. 

"Inez, before that Commie started shooting up the place, you said you wanted me to go with you..." 

The reminder snapped Inez out of her fugue, and she came to life with the possibility that surfaced in light of his revelation Bernardo's reasons to be in Europe were not what she thought. "Yes, I'm sorry I forgot..."

"It's okay, Inez." Alex, who was next to her at the bar, didn't allow her to finish that thought. "You had other things on your mind."

From the corner of her eye, she saw Vin's smile of appreciation at her support of Inez and returned it with an affectionate wink. 

"With no news of Bernardo after two years, I stopped looking for him. I was sure he was dead. If it was anything but the truth, I knew he would have found some way to come home to me." Despite her best efforts, it still hurt Inez to say those words out loud. "I had to move on and raise my son. So I went to live with my mother in Val Verde so she could help me with Benny. Then one day, out of nowhere, I was visited by Father Garcia. He was the priest who married Bernardo and me in a chapel at Tula. During the war, Father Garcia was a courier, and he told me he received word from Bernardo through the old channels."

"The old channels?" JD had to ask.

“Bernardo and I were _Cristeros_.”

"You fought in that war?" Chris blurted out, sharing the same surprise as the others in the room. Of course, they all knew about the war that gripped Mexico for three years but had begun a great deal earlier when the government declared war on the Catholic faith. The war had torn the country in half, and Chris supposed it made sense Inez, like so many of her countrymen, would have become embroiled in the conflict.

"Yes," she nodded, thinking how it felt like a lifetime ago, and supposed it was really. "I was _Brigadas Feminanas_. I fought in the jungle, carried messages and munitions between rebel camps. It was how we met. Not long before the war ended, I fell pregnant, and we were married in a small church outside of Tula. Only Father Garcia was there to witness it. Bernardo didn't want anyone to know we were married because he was afraid the _Federales_ might use us against each other." 

Buck was fascinated, realising there was so much to Inez than he ever imagined. It did explain how resourceful she had been earlier on though. The way she ran after that Commie bastard proved she knew how to handle herself.

"That makes sense Chris," Buck glanced at his old friend. "If Bernardo wanted to get a message to her, this was as good a way as any."

"So pray tell what was his missive to you, my dear?" Ezra asked. 

"It was," she paused a moment, collecting herself as she felt the gentle squeeze of Alex's hand in hers. "It was a necklace with a short note telling me he would be home soon. He hoped to see me wear it while we danced." A lump formed in her throat, which she had to swallow away to keep speaking. "Father Garcia told me it was delivered to him almost a year and a half earlier, and he was told to keep it secret. He was not told why." 

"You didn't try to find out more?" Nathan asked. 

"Of course I did," Inez bit back and then felt immediately ashamed because these men were standing by her because they respected her father and she had gained their loyalty because of it. "I'm sorry, Nathan."

"Don't worry about Inez," Nathan looked at her with a healer's empathy, aware of how frayed her nerves were right now.

His understanding made her feel worse, so all she could do was keep going. "There was nothing to learn. I was met with the same answers, and now the trail was old. In the end, I had no choice, I had to accept he was dead. I could not live my life, hoping he would come back." 

"Inez," Chris spoke gently, understanding her grief all too well but this necklace was now his sole focus. "Can I have a look at this necklace?"

"Yes," she nodded and retreated upstairs to find it. 

"This is my fault," Buck shook his head. "We should have left this alone. Us trying to find out what happened to her husband is what brought those bastards here." 

No one could disagree on that point, but none were unwilling to let him blame himself. 

"Buck," Josiah spoke up. "They've been waiting a long time to catch up with her. It's best this happens now when we're here, and we can help her deal with it. Besides, there's no good coming from having the Sword of Damocles hanging over one's head."

"Josiah is right," Alex gave the ladies' man a little smile. "Better Inez finds out about this now, then years down the track when we might not be around to help her." 

"Mr Larabee," Ezra spoke up, "it disturbs me they did not search the premises for this necklace if that is indeed the cause of their interest. Ms Inez took no pains to hide it. A search would have yielded the item, without resorting to kidnapping." 

"Yeah," Chris nodded. "It means they want more than just this necklace. They've got something else in mind." 

Almost on cue, the telephone rang.

The shrill noise startled everyone. The phone, which usually lived beneath the counter of the bar, had survived the shooting and continued into its second ring before they overcame their surprise. Buck, who was behind the counter, quickly snatched up the receiver even as he heard Inez running down the staircase at the sound of it, her pounding footsteps announcing her arrival. 

"Hello?" Buck spoke neutrally, uncertain of what to expect. 

"I will speak to Comrade Larabee." 

Buck's spine stiffened, his eyes darting immediately to Chris. The male voice was cold and thick with a recognisable accent. Russian, he thought immediately and realised he was speaking to the people who took Benny. "This is Paloma's, Mr Larabee doesn't live here." 

"Neither do you Comrade Wilmington," the man countered, unsurprised by his answer. "But you will let me speak to Mr Larabee if you want to see the boy again." 

The mention of Benny crumbled Buck's defiance, and his expression hardened even as Inez started battering him with questions. 

"What's happening? Who is it? Are they the people who took Benny? Let me speak to them!" 

"Inez, wait," Alex tried to calm Inez, her intuition told her Inez's volatile state might not aid the situation. 

Inez wanted to insist but then next minute Buck lowered the phone. "Chris, he wants to talk to you."

"What? Why?" Inez shot Chris a look of accusation at why Benny's abductors would wish to talk to Chris, not her. She was his mother!

Chris did not respond to her demands but crossed the floor to take the call. They were about to learn what this was about and Chris didn't want to waste any time.

"This is Larabee."

"I regret having to engage your services under these circumstances, Mr Larabee, but I suspect you would not have agreed to my request otherwise." 

"Our services?" Chris raised a brow. 

"Yes," the man wasted no time getting to the point, not when he had his quarry on the line. "You will retrieve the jewel for us. You and your team will use your considerable expertise to locate it and bring it to us if you want to see this boy again. If you refuse, we will return him to you, one piece at a time." 

"I don't even know what you're talking about," Chris returned but suspected the man would not be helpful in this regard either. 

"If your reputation is what it claims to be, then you will learn soon enough. Otherwise, it will be most unfortunate to the child in our custody. Do we understand each other?" 

Chris showed no reaction, but inside he was bubbling with anger. "Yeah, we do." 

"We will be watching Mr Larabee," the man warned. "Do not fail us." 

  
  
  



	11. Shambhala

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Apologies for the long gap between updates, my health has not been good. All better now, so do enjoy. 
> 
> Also, I'm taking a lot of liberties here with Buddist mythology - please note that no offence is intended.

After Chris hung up the phone, the room was frozen in silence as the full measure of their predicament sunk in. Benny was a hostage until his abductors had their prize. 

"What do they want Mr Larabee?" 

Ezra's question was mirrored on all their faces, except Inez. There was only one look on hers, and as a father who lost a child, he recognised it all too well. Anguish. 

"Our services.," Chris stated, still processing the conversation in his mind. 

"Our services?" Vin drawled with disbelief. "Hell of a way to hire us. Didn't they know a cheque would have done?" 

"Well, these Commies want us to retrieve a jewel in exchange for Benny. If we don't...." he didn't look at Inez when he couldn't complete the sentence. 

Inez was clutching the amulet so tightly in her fist, the indents it created in her palm almost drew blood. 

Chris didn't need to say it. She was accustomed to dealing with evil men and knew what Benny's fate would be if they did not get what they wanted. The one-sided conversation between Chris and the kidnapper told her as much. When Inez saw his eyes hardening at being forced to admit he understood, she guessed immediately her son's life was tied to the thing she was holding. 

"Inez?" Buck saw her standing so rigidly he thought she might snap from the sheer tension. A trickle of blood seeped out of the creases of her called fist, and no matter how much he swore he'd hold back, the sight of it had him moving towards her.

Inez lifted her chin and in her eyes was that same sadness, the one he recognised so well in his sainted mother. In Emily, it was despair knowing her choices had branded him a whore's bastard, and no matter how much love she gave him, she would never remove that indelible stain. The despair was no less potent for Inez, whose fear was her inability to protect little Benny, that she would be forced to relinquish her role as protector to someone else. 

"Come on, Darlin," he spoke with all the kindness he could muster. "Let Chris see what you got so we can get your boy back." 

She blinked away the steely mask and the glistening moisture running down her cheeks told Buck how close she was to breaking. Her son was all she had left in this world, and if he were gone, Buck knew she would not be able to bear it. When her palm opened revealing the necklace, a heavy thing of gold and turquoise stones, it was smeared with blood. 

"Oh, Inez." 

Buck heard Alex gasp and from the corner of his eye saw both the doctor and Nathan closing in to deal with Inez's injured hand.

"I cannot lose him Buck," she whispered, "he's the reason I wake up in the morning, the reason I am breathing. He's my heart, and I will die if anything happens to him." 

"It won't come to that," Buck assured her, taking the necklace out of her hand and eyed Chris. "Will it?"

Chris, who was at the bar, did not look at Buck but stared intently at Inez. "It won't, I give you my word we'll find him." 

Inez allowed herself to be wrapped up in the warm blanket of Alex and Nathan's protection as Buck drew away from her, confident of her welfare as he walked over to Chris and handed his old friend the artifact. Chris took it with a nod of affirmation that his promise was one every member of the seven would keep. 

Why not? As Buck glanced at his comrades, he saw how profoundly the others were affected by Benny's abduction. They all were fond of Benny in one way or another. How many times had Buck seen Benny seated on the hood of Inez's car when Josiah was giving it a quick service. Just like how Buck sometimes heard Ezra reading to Benny at bedtime, a memory which prompted him to glance at Vin because he remembered the gambler doing the same to the child Vin had been on the Western Front.

Meanwhile, Chris cleaned off the necklace with a bit of his whiskey, his jaw clenching at the blood and how it came to be there. He knew what it was like to lose a child, and while there was still a chance to get Benny back, it did not lessen Inez’s torment. In any case, the words of that son of a bitch reminded him viciously of the task they needed to fulfil.

_Find the jewel._

Whether or not it started its life as a necklace was an answer for the ages, but the centrepiece of the artifact in front of him was two square pieces of gold flattened two inches wide. One sat on top of the other in a hexagonal formation. The gold was embedded with ancient writing that Chris recognised as eastern though he could not be more specific than that. The green beads turning the artifact into a necklace was jade, and Chris wondered how Inez would feel knowing how much it was worth. 

A polished elliptical stone, gleaming in emerald beauty, sat in its centre.

The stone while beautiful did not interest him as much at the writing etched across its gold surface. Studying it carefully, Chris frowned at the difficulty in recognising it. While he could not translate most of the languages he encountered, he was able to identify them by their unique script. This one was one he had never seen before although, on first glance, he thought it might have been Indian. 

"JD, come look at this." 

At Chris's call, JD crossed the floor, burning with curiosity to see the artifact himself. Clearly, it was valuable if someone was willing to go through all the trouble of abducting Benny for it. It was a good thing Inez had kept it hidden away for so long. Walking past the lady, who was being treated and consoled by Alex and Nathan respectively, he reached Chris's side and looked down at the object on the bar counter. Almost immediately, he was captivated by the tiny etched letters across the gold. 

"What is it, pard?" Vin asked, speaking for all of them when he voiced his burning curiosity. 

"Not sure," Chris looked up, his attention momentarily distracted at the sight of Alex speaking quietly to Inez, while Nathan tended to her bleeding hand with the contents of a first aid kid. "I think it's Indian." 

"North American?" Josiah piped up. 

"Not American Indian," Chris clarified and noted Vin taking a glance at Alex, whose mother had come from that distant country. 

"It's not Indian," JD ended this speculation without looking up, still studying the artifact. "It looks similar, but it isn't from India. I could be wrong, and I'd have to check with Professor Travis, but I'm pretty sure this is neolithic Tibetan. There are enough similarities to the script written by the Majiayao people who spread through the area as late as 3200 BC." 

Buck, like the others in the room, took a moment to absorb the new information, and even though he didn't understand it, he was still impressed. "So you can read it?" 

"It's not that simple Buck," Chris explained, now he knew the script's origins. "The language was evolved almost five thousand years ago, translating it could take time."

"Does Benny have it?" Josiah rumbled. The question was rhetorical because none of them believed Benny's abductors understood patience. They would want results quickly and would unlikely be willing to wait while Chris and JD tried to nail down a translation. 

"If they want us to find this thing, they better keep Benny safe," Chris warned with menace. "They're not getting their hands on this jewel otherwise." 

Vin rose to his feet and strode over to the window, peering through the glass at the darkness outside. Beyond the parking lot was twilight blackness and Vin whose night vision was better than most, was satisfied he could see no cars using it for concealment. If what he suspected was right, it was likely they had been watching the place for some time now. Enough for them to guess Bernado Recillos's widow owned Palomas and had friends who could be of use to them. 

"What is it, Vin?" Chris asked.

"I wonder how long they've been watching us," Vin revealed, adding to no one's comfort. "They knew we'd all be here for Inez when they took the boy. They couldn't have guessed that unless they'd been watching us." 

"If they know how close we are to Inez. That may simply be an educated guess on their part." Ezra countered. Being able to read people meant Chris's body language telegraphed how much danger Benny was in and Ezra tried not to worry for the safety of the boy he'd come to care for a great deal. "

Still, no one liked the idea of being watched now that Vin planted the possibility in their heads. Chris was adamant that even if they acquired this artifact in exchange for Benny's life, they would not be doing this in front of an audience. If there was one thing the leader of the seven despised, it was being manipulated by thugs and anyone who would abduct a child, whatever place they held in the world, was nothing else.

"Chris," JD straightened up, "did you say it was a jewel they wanted us to find?"

"Yeah. Why?"

Leaving the counter, JD brought the artifact with him and headed toward Ezra and handed it to the gambler. Ezra whose knowledge of precious metals could rival any New York diamond merchant would be able to identify the stone far quicker than anyone else in the room. "Ezra, can you tell me what kind of stone that is." 

Ezra raised a brow and reached into his jacket to produce a loupe, the small eyeglass used by all jewellers and watchmakers, before taking the artifact from JD. 

"You carry one of those things on you?" Vin had to ask.

Nathan, who went back to bandaging Inez's wounded hand, answered for Ezra. "You're surprised?"

"Please" Ezra confirmed putting the loupe against his eye. "I am not about to take some opponent's word that the diamond ring he intends to use as a stake is genuine." 

"Ezra, focus," Chris said sharply, a reminder not to just the gambler but to everyone else, this was not the time, not in Inez's present state of mind. 

"My apologies," Ezra said quickly before returning to his own examination of the artifact. 

"What are you thinking, JD?" Buck asked, recognising the intense look on JD's face. It was the expression of someone who was trying to prove an idea. 

JD didn't answer Buck, but he did speak. "Have any of you ever heard of the Jewel of Cintamani?"

Chris straightened up and stared at JD. "You think this is it?"

"It's possible," JD looked at his leader and mentor. "The writing speaks of Shambhala, the mythical city where one of the four great treasures of the Dharma reside, guarded by the Nagi until Triratna can be achieved." 

"What are you talking about! What has this to do with Benny!" Inez burst out, needing answers and for that matter, explanations.

"Sorry Inez," JD apologised, feeling a little embarrassed at being wrapped up in a legend when a flesh and blood situation needed resolution. Receiving a slight nod from Chris telling him the floor was his, JD faced Inez and the others, explaining what he knew about the fabled Jewel of Cintamani. 

"The Jewel of Cintamani was supposedly one of four relics that fell from the sky and would be needed for the minds of everyone to begin Triratna, a state of perfect enlightenment. It passed into the possession of King Thothori Nyantsen who kept it in a temple in the city, but as the centuries passed and the kingdom declined, it fell to plunder, and the relics vanished. To protect the Jewel which is believed to be the most powerful of all the relics, the monks used its own power to protect it from discovery." 

"Power?" Buck asked, "what kind of power?" 

"It's a wishing stone. Whoever holds it can get anything they want. It's supposedly a manifestation of Nirvana, you know paradise." 

"You mean like a magic lamp?" This question came from Nathan. 

"Except there is no limit to what it can be asked to do. It is meant to give you true happiness, which means more than just wealth and prosperity. It can grant you immortality, love and the power to bring back the dead, family, lovers anyone you want. It can pretty much shape reality to satisfy the happiness of whoever holds it." 

"Well I can see why the Commies want it then," Vin said, meeting Chris's gaze since they both shared the same thought. "They get their hands on this thing, and this whole world is theirs for the taking." 

"But this can't be real..." Inez stated. Her Catholic upbringing refused to let her believe this could be anything but nonsense. 

"It doesn't matter if it's real or not," Chris replied, not about to discount the Jewel's power just yet, not after everything they'd seen in the last few years. "These Russians think it is and they want us to fight it. JD, keep going." 

"According to legend, a monk used it wishing the Jewel to be hidden beyond the reach of all. That's just what happened. It vanished into a city along the boundary between the Earth and heaven."

"Where the hell is that?" Inez burst out, showing her growing anxiety at her son's fate being tied to these far-fetched legends. 

"The boundary between heaven and earth could mean the Himalayas, the roof of the world," Chris suggested. "Assuming we're on the right track."

"I think we are Chris," JD answered, throwing a glance at Ezra. "I think this is what the Russians were after until they found out we were involved." 

"It makes sense," Josiah agreed. "If you want to find this thing, who better to do it than a bunch of treasure hunters who do it for a living." 

"Yeah," Chris agreed. "They probably came here for the artifact but saw our involvement and decided to go one better. It's smart. I'm sorry, Inez. Our being here is why they took Benny." 

Inez wanted to be angry but she couldn't. She was logical enough to put the pieces together and suspected if Chris and his men were not here, they would have killed her and her son before taking what they wanted anyway. At least in this instance, Benny was still alive, and his chances of survival depended on the expertise of the seven. 

"It is not your fault," she tried to give them a smile of absolution but could not manage it. 

"Well," Ezra said after long last. "I can tell you that this is not jade or emerald, or any of the commonly known stones. It took me some time, but I believe I know what it is. Moldavite." 

"What is it?" Nathan voiced their bewilderment. 

"Moldavite," Ezra repeated and noted he had the floor now since JD was saying nothing to illuminate everyone’s confusion. "It is a tektite, a type of glass formed by the detritus of meteorites. Moldavite was thought to have appeared on Earth some 15 million years ago following a meteorite collision in Bohemia. The highest concentrations of it seemed to be in Czechoslovakia, around the České Budějovice Basin. Its value comes from its rarity. Very little of it has been found anywhere else." 

"The Jewel is believed to be made of moldavite," JD reminded Chris. 

"Well that makes sense," Alex, who had been treating Inez, spoke up for the first time. "If the story is to be believed, then the jewel really did come from the sky."

No one could argue with that observation. 

"So then what's this necklace got to do with it?" Nathan gestured to the object Ezra was continuing to study with interest. 

"Well, when it comes time for humanity to reach Triratna," JD resumed his explanations. "They're going to need the Jewel and the other the relics wherever they are. So the Jewel will need to be found in Shambhala. I think this artifact is the way to do that, but we've got to find the sacred temple where the artifacts were kept before the plunder. The real experts are the Roerichs. They did the real study on the Jewel." 

Inez froze and stood up suddenly. 

"Did you say Roerichs?" 

All eyes turned to her, but it was Chris who spoke. "Is that name familiar?" 

Inez nodded, feeling the air in her lungs dwindling, leaving her breathless by a sudden burst of understanding. She composed herself, mining her thoughts for the particular memory, suspecting even though it was minor, it held the answer to how Bernado had become ensnared in the mystery that cost him life. Hugging herself as if it was icy cold in the room, Inez remembered how Bernado spoke of his days in university, how he enjoyed being educated abroad. 

"Before Bernado came home to join Cristeros, he studied in Paris. One of the friends he met was George Roerich. When he left for Prague, he told me it was one of his old friends from school who offered him the job." 

"If it was Roerich then it all fits," Chris stated. "George's dad is Nicholas Roerich, he's a famous Russian painter, archaeologist and theologist, who did the first serious studies on the Jewel. Between 1925 and 1929, he and his family made a cross-country trek across Central Asia to find it."

"WHere is this fella now?" Buck asked, knowing that if they were going to retrieve this artifact and get Benny back, they would need to know what wild goose chase George set Bernado on. 

"I shall be able to locate him," Ezra volunteered. "If he travels in academia, then I imagine it should not be any trouble finding us a place to start." 

"I'm going with you." 

Buck stared at Inez open-mouthed and answered before Chris could. "Darlin' no, it's dangerous. We have no idea what we're walking into!" 

"I don't care! He's my son, and I am going with you." Turning to Chris, she added, "if it was your son, would you stay behind?" 

Chris opened his mouth to answer until the truth forced him into silence. If it was Adam, there was no force on heaven or Earth capable of keeping Chris from joining any effort to rescue him. How could he ask her to do the same?"

"No," Chris conceded defeat. "I wouldn't." 

"Chris..." Buck started to protest when Ezra cut him off.

"The lady has spoken Buck," Ezra said smoothly. While he understood Buck's sentiments and his concern for Roberto's lovely daughter, even Ezra knew it was never wise to get between a mother and her child. Turning to Inez, he said with a little smile. “Miss Inez, I suggest you start packing.” 


	12. Destiny

Alexandra Styles loved Vin Tanner. 

She really did. Their first meeting and every day since confirmed this truth beyond all shadow of a doubt. Alex, who used to believe there was no such thing as love at first sight, was surprised by how wrong she had been after meeting Vin. Their connection after their first encounter was undeniable. The months that followed gave Alex no reason to change her opinion. There was nothing she would not do for him because life without Vin was simply unimaginable.

But it was not only Vin she adored so much.

After the loss of her father, Alex resigned herself to being alone in the world. However, fate had other ideas since Vin came with six friends who filled the void left by William Styles. Becoming a part of their extended family had been a welcome surprise, and her relationships with these eclectic men took a life of its own. From her close friendship with Nathan Jackson, whose knowledge of the Great War made his expertise equal to any medical degree, to the common ground shared with Ezra Standish. Both loved opera and often accompanied each other to performances since Vin made it plain he would run for the hills if she made him go. 

Life with Vin was as close to perfect as Alex could imagine - except for one thing.

She really _hated_ his job. 

Fuming in her seat on board the Darlin' Millie, Alex listened to the drone of its propellers. She stared out the window at the grey clouds and the night sky beyond wondering how she ended up here. It had been less than an hour since they left Albuquerque and while Alex had expected the seven to leave town in search of the Jewel on Cintamani, she did not anticipate going with them. 

"Darlin', you can't stay here. These Commies have been watching us for Christ knows how long. If they kidnapped little Benny to blackmail us, they might come after you too." 

Vin was right. How many times had the seven's enemies tried to use someone they cared for as a hostage? After her encounter with the Erran, Alex wasn't stupid enough to question Vin's desire to keep her safe but going with them meant time away from her hard-worn internship. While the administrators at the Sisters of Mercy Hospital accepted her leave of absence without complaint, it still galled Alex nonetheless. 

"I'm sorry Alex," Inez took up the empty seat next to her after Vin tired of her annoyance and went to talk to Chris instead. "I didn't mean for you to be drawn into this." 

Inez's apology doused the smouldering embers of her ire as it reminded Alex of the stakes involved. A woman whose child was abducted had no business offering her an apology, and it made Alex feel guilty for behaving so selfishly. The situation was what it was, Alex concded, and none of the people on board the Millie was to blame for it. 

"I know," she exhaled her lingering resentment with a sigh. "I was just starting to hit my stride at the hospital. When you leave medical school, you think you've learned everything there is to know about medicine. Being an intern changes all that. You feel like it's the first day of school again and I've spent the last few months getting to a place where I think I got it all figured out and now I have to leave again."

Before Inez opened her mouth to offer another apology, Alex cut her off. 

"....but I'll get over it and right now, the most important thing is for us to bring Benny home," Alex reached for Inez's hand and squeezed it tightly. 

"We will," Inez nodded, refusing to believe anything else. "I also understand why you have no wish to join Vin on his adventures." 

"Adventures?" Alex rolled her eyes in sarcasm. "The last time I was involved in these treasure hunts, I was almost drowned, chopped up by zombies, stung to death by scorpions and almost became the receptacle of an ancient Babylonian goddess! That sort of thing can make a girl a little anxious." 

Inez laughed a little and Alex was glad to see her distracted from her troubles, enough so to admit another little bit of truth. "It's not just that Inez. My father died because of the Erran, and that whole situation reminds me of just how much he hid from me. He was carrying the truth about the cult for years, knowing his friends were being murdered because of these fanatics and one day, they would come after him too. I wish he had shared it with me, let me help carry the burden with him." 

"I understand," Inez said quietly, empathising with Alex more than the young doctor knew. She eased back into her chair, thinking about the confluence of events leading to this moment in time and felt a surge of anger at the truth Bernardo hid from her. 

The shadow falling over her face was so obvious Alex felt a pang of sympathy for the woman. She understood where her ruminations led Inez and Alex cursed herself for her childish snit. "My father did what he did because he was trying to protect me, I'm sure Bernado did the same because he wanted to keep you and little Benny safe." 

"But we are not safe," Inez shook her head, not about to forgive him his sins just yet. "His silence cost him his life and made me ignorant of the dangers waiting out there. He should have told me! I am so angry with him for that? What was he thinking when he left us to get involved with such men?" 

Alex could offer no insight into Bernardo's reasoning, but her friend needed words of comfort, so she tried to provide some. "Inez, whatever was in his mind, I'm certain he never intended to pay for his mistake with his life or risk you and Benny's." 

"But he has made us pay," Inez countered. "They have Benny, and now I'm afraid that even if they get the Jewel, they won't give him back to me." 

"You can't think that way," Alex stated firmly and then glanced past Inez to the furthest end of the aisle where Chris and Vin were seated side by side, their seats facing the aisle. "Chris would never let that happen. If nothing else, I believe in him." 

Inez didn't look at the leader of the seven but could not deny Alex was right. Chris Larabee proved time and time again, he knew how to take care of his friends. 

"That gives me hope," she smiled. "You know I wish Bernardo had friends like Chris and the others after the war was over. He just could not find a place for himself once life returned to normal. I think he spent so much time being a soldier, surrounded by danger, he might have needed it. Perhaps as much as he needed us." 

"Some men are not made for an ordinary life," Alex lifted her chin and caught Vin's gaze. The couple exchanged a moment of affection before they returned to their respective conversations. "You can't tame them, Inez, you just have to be there to remind them of what's waiting at home, so they’ll try twice as hard to come back to us." 

* * *

"Alex still mad at you?" 

Chris, who was in his customary seat at the rear of the plane, asked Vin. The sharpshooter had joined him, Nathan and Ezra after enduring the full brunt of female annoyance during the first hour of their journey. Having been married, Chris was perfectly aware of how potent the silence treatment could be when employed by the female of the species. He wondered how Vin was handling it. In all the time he'd seen the couple together, they had never even gotten into a fight which was downright unnatural as far as Chris was concerned. 

"Nah," Vin shrugged, still warmed by the look of affection thrown his way from Alex a moment ago. "I'm too pretty for her to be mad at for long." 

Ezra choked on his snifter of cognac. "Buck has been a terrible influence on you, young man." 

During their journeys, Chris would be busy studying the research material he and JD gathered for their expedition before the flight. The trays separating their seats were covered with old books, scrolls and several newspaper clippings. Nathan, on the other hand, was engrossed reading a book with a most colourful title. The recently published 'Tortilla Flat' written by the promising new author John Steinbeck. 

A light snoring from beneath the brim of his hat revealed how Josiah would spend much of the trip. The ex-mechanic had been hard at work preparing the Millie for flight, repairing the damage done to the craft during their Australian Adventure. Ezra couldn't blame him for finally taking some rest. 

For himself, Ezra continued to deal himself another game of solitaire when Nathan spoke up after lowering his book. 

"So what's the plan, Chris?"

They all knew they were in a race against time to reach England, with a quick stop on the East Coast to refuel. According to Ezra's contacts, George Roerich was about to leave London for Manchuria in a matter of days. Despite the urgency of the situation, nothing could dissuade the scholar from delaying the start of his latest expedition to the Orient. Furthermore, Roerich believed and rightly so, hid family involvement in the matter would only compromise their efforts to retrieve the Jewel. The Roerichs' connection to the Jewel was well known, and they were still under observation by Stalinist forces. 

"Well thanks to Julia, we can meet the Roerichs in private, away from any Ruskie snoops."

Chris glanced at Ezra, who contacted Julia and with her help, arranged a meeting with George Roerich before he departed from England. While Chris hated involving British Intelligence in this business, he disliked the idea of the Russians watching their every move, even more. 

Not wanting Inez to overhear what he was about to tell the others, Chris kept his voice low and noted Alex and Inez still engaged in deep conversation. Good, he thought silently. The lady was holding up well, and she had more strength than any of them suspected, but there were some aspects of this affair; she had no need to know. Bernardo's secrecy about the Jewel bothered her enough and as a widower himself, Chris did not want Inez's image of her husband to be further tarnished.

"From what I got from him on the phone, George met up with Bernardo in Mexico and hired him for the expedition to retrieve the amulet. He knew the Commies were watching him and his family but figured they wouldn't pay any attention to an ex-Cristeros if Bernardo crossed the border from Czechoslovakia into Russia."

"A grievous error," Ezra commented. While the country had been in turmoil since 1922, there was no doubting the ferocity of Stalin’s secret police. Julia warned the OGPU were almost as brutal as Germany's SS.

"No kidding," Chris agreed and continued speaking. "It turns out George's dad went home to Moscow with a bunch of artifacts from Tibet after his expeditions in the Orient. This included a map leading to the whereabouts of the amulet. With the political unrest taking place between Stalin and Trotsky, Nicholas decided to take up a teaching position in America. By this time, the map was being kept at a university in Moscow, and there was no chance of removing it without the secret police asking questions." 

"Which is why George needed Bernardo to sneak into Russia from the Czech border to get it," Vin commented. 

"Exactly. The Commies would have no reason to suspect him, not until he took the map. Once he had it though, they were on him." 

"All the way to the amulet." 

"Yeah," Chris nodded, "He must have figured they were going to grab him, so he sent it to Inez to keep it out of their hands before it happened." 

"Is there any chance he might still be alive?" Nathan whispered, not wanting Inez to hear. 

All three men exchanged a quick glance that revealed their thoughts on the matter. 

"No," Chris's voice matched Nathan's. "If Bernardo were alive, they wouldn't have waited three years to make their move or kidnap Benny. Inez would have given up the amulet straight away to get her husband back. They didn't have leverage until they took Benny. Hell, they wouldn't have known about it until Ezra went nosing around." 

"Thank you for that reminder," Ezra shot Chris a look, still guilty at how he'd led these bastards to Inez and her son. 

"Ain't your fault Ezra," Vin spoke up quickly. "We all agreed that you should investigate Bernardo’s disappearance. Besides, it's best we found out now while all of us can help get Benny back." 

Once again, Ezra tossed a look in Inez's direction before he answered Vin. "I must confess I am dubious whether our Soviet employers will honour their agreement and produce the child even if we do give them the Jewel." 

"You think a double-cross?" Nathan blurted out until Chris gave him a warning glare to be discreet. 

Fortunately, Inez did not react to Nathan's words, and Chris felt comfortable enough to answer. There was no doubt in his mind that when the time came to make the exchange, the Russians would renege on their promise to return Benny.

"I'm sure of it," Chris said grimly. 

* * *

_Fear not the darkest tunnel even when your blood slickens its jagged walls of black glass. Struggle borne of pain will spawn a new beginning._

\- Anon

These words offered meagre comfort to Aisha, the last in the line of succession to Sassanid kings of old. Over the preceding six months, she moved through her life, trapped in a nightmare refusing to release its hold upon her. In the dark walls of this dream palace, she saw broken reflections of destiny, the fractured hopes of her people, shattered by a single bullet. It took from the Erran five thousand years of preparation and dismissed Tiamat into the afterlife where gods went to die. 

It also took her brother. 

Adashir Shar, leader of the Erran now lay buried beneath the desert sand, without even the honour of a burial fitting a Sassanid monarch. As it was, it infuriated Aisha that Dash's killer remained a mystery. Replaying the events of his death in her mind, Aisha knew it was not the infidels captured who delivered the killing stroke. Her brother's murderer had fired their fatal shot from a distance. She wondered if Larabee and his men knew who had done it. If she did not have more pressing matters to attend to, she would have gladly tortured every one of them to learn the truth. 

At the moment, she needed to rebuild the fractured hopes of her people, because buried with her brother, was the promise of the new world Tiamat would have created for them. The Erran’s plan to resurrect her lay in ruins because the hated infidels who opposed them, had destroyed the Tablet of Destiny to ensure its summoning powers would never be invoked again. 

Although they still numbered in the thousands, spread across the globe, they were now an army without a cause. They looked to her for leadership, because even if she was a woman, she was sister to the Great Shah and a child of kings. Yet Aisha felt as if she was treading water. Without the Tablet of Destiny, there was no way for them to resurrect Tiamat and thus no way to hold the children of Erran together. 

For months, she remained in seclusion at her brother's mansion in Mykonos. At her side was loyal Krestos. Like his family before him, he protected all members of the Sassanid royal house. He and his men ensured no usurper attempted to take her place as leader of the Erran. Such power plays were expected because some still found difficulty accepting the rule of a woman. Aisha knew the key to maintaining her place was to give them hope that their covenant with Tiamat was not irrevocably broken by the loss of the Tablet. 

Searching the volumes of ancient books and texts collected by her family for centuries, she studied the yellowed pages and the endless scrolls, looking for an answer. Five thousand years of worship and devotion could not end with something as profane as a gunshot. There had to be a way to resurrect Tiamat without the Tablet! 

Staring into the warmth of the Aegean, the crisp, blue waters beyond Mykonos called to her from the desk, where she was surrounded by volumes of open books and unfurled scrolls. None of them had given her enlightenment, and as she rubbed the bridge of her nose, she wondered if perhaps the sensible thing to do would be to give up. It seemed unkind to yoke her people to a dream that would never come to pass. 

"Amira." 

Krestos stood before her desk like a carved statue of ebony. The man was a behemoth, yet he entered her private study like the most artful of thieves. He had been her friend since childhood, her most loyal servant and protector. As always, he stood before her supplicant, his eyes never meeting hers because he considered himself her lesser. 

"Krestos," she left behind the welcoming waters of the Aegean and met his gaze. "What is it?" 

"I am sorry to intrude your studies Amira, but I have received a report from one of the believers in Moscow."

"Moscow?" Aisha stood up and stared. Of course, over the centuries, the Erran had cultivated followers in every corner of the globe. While the concentration of the faithful was in Arabia, there were believers in such faraway places as Russia. 

"Yes," Krestos nodded. "One of your brother's converts, I believe. A man named Milosevic." 

"And what does he have to report?" Aisha asked, remembering Dash believed it was wise to have connections everywhere and to a degree, he was right. It allowed them to keep track of rare artifacts connected to the Tablet as well as a way to keep an eye on their enemies. 

"He claims that the Russians are seeking out an artifact called the Jewel of Cintamani." 

Aisha stared at him for a moment, not speaking. She searched her memory for knowledge of the artifact and was vaguely aware of the name, but not the legends surrounding it. In truth, it was Dash who was the real expert in ancient myths. He understood all the texts, the rituals and traditions surrounding the Tablet, while Aisha with Krestos's aid, was his fearsome right hand. She carried out his bidding without question but never took the time to learn any of it. Since his death, she had been forced to become adept in understanding the Tablet, but other legends still eluded her. 

"It is old Amira," Krestos explained. "Almost as old as the Tablet. The worshippers of Mother Indus believed it to be a gift from their gods, granting anyone who possessed it their greatest wishes." 

"A wishing stone?" Aisha sat up immediately, the possibilities starting to form in her mind. "And the Russians are after it? "

"Yes," Krestos nodded. "They are so determined to find it they have forced Larabee and his men to help them." 

Her eyes widened at the mention of the hated infidels. If the Russians had engaged Larabee to find the stone, there must be something to its power. A powerful wishing stone in her hands could change all their fates. It could undo all the tragedy of the last six months and restore Dash to her again. It was powerful enough, it could even rebuild the Tablet of Destiny...

Aisha stood up abruptly, her eyes bright with purpose and it was reflected in Kresto's own dark eyes. "Come Krestos, it seems we have a journey to make." 


	13. County Fair

**PEMBERTON MANOR**

**CHESHUNT, HERTFORDSHIRE**

  
  


"Now that's a house." 

Buck Wilmington whistled in awe once he climbed out of the black Vauxhall Light Six. He turned around and offered a hand to Inez, helping her out of the vehicle, his attention shifting briefly from the austere mansion to the beautiful bartender. In stark contrast to her long skirts and peasant blouses, Inez wore a light blue floral dress with a modest top, puffed sleeves and a slender body cut that flared below the knee. With an angular white hat perched over her head and day gloves, she looked in his opinion, quite stunning. 

"My goodness," Inez's eyes widened at the sight of the stately home in front of the car, "you are not wrong." 

The Pemberton Manor home, located south of London was the home to the family of Julia Pemberton's mother. Nestled in Cheshunt, Hertfordshire, it was surrounded by rows of elm and oak, carefully manicured lawns whose lush, verdant texture resembled something out of a picture book. Compared to the arid landscape of New Mexico, England's rolling green fields and massive trees with their outstretched branches didn't seem quite real.

The house itself was constructed in a baroque style of red brick, with white columns holding up the balcony on the front facade, elegantly painted white windows and towering turrets running along the roof. The estate itself lay some miles away from the town of Cheshunt, where they'd left Vin and the others since it didn't feel right for every one of the seven to be present for their meeting with Roerich. 

"Will Julia be here?" Inez asked Ezra who had left the vehicle and made his way to the front door, looking dapper as always in a white suit and hat.

"Alas no," Ezra glanced over his shoulder, past Chris who wearing his customary black suit and hat. "Julia is presently abroad." 

There was no need to explain to anyone present what that meant, although Ezra was a bit disappointed he wouldn't get the opportunity to see her. The chances for them to meet face-to-face were so rare, it was really a miracle they managed to conduct a relationship across such distance. Still, Julia's place in his heart was so secure he would have it no other way. 

"Our meeting with Doctor Roerich has been facilitated by Julia's stepfather Sir Sean Bosley. I understand this home belonged to his wife's family, although Lady Bosley prefers to live in London with her husband. This is their country home." 

"I wonder if Dr Roerich is here yet," Chris asked no one in particular as they made their way up the slate grey front walk.

As he said those words, the double front doors to the mansion parted with a man emerging from the shadows of the hallway beyond. He was a man in his sixties, a straight nose, dark hair turning grey and pronounced Gaelic features. Seated in a wheelchair, he glided forward, wearing a smile of welcome that was very much in keeping with Julia's description of the man. To Julia, Sean Bosley was more father to her than the deceased Donald Avery. 

"Welcome to Pemberton Manor," he greeted, and his voice bore a hint of an Irish brogue. 

"Thank you for receiving us," Ezra tilted his head in greeting. "Permit me to introduce my associates...."

"No need," Sir Sean grinned at Chris. "Your reputation precedes you, Mr Larabee, I am most pleased to meet you and your team." 

"Thank you, Sir Sean," Chris proffered his hand at him, supposing he ought not to be surprised that the man would be familiar with who they were, considering he worked from British Intelligence. 

"And you must be Mr Wilmington," Sir Sean looked past Chris at Buck and Inez who was approaching him a few steps behind. 

"That's me," Buck tilted his hat at the man. "Pleased to meet you, Sir Sean."

"And you, my dear," He rolled up to Inez and extended his hand. "You must be Mrs Recillos." 

"Yes," she nodded. "Thank you for helping us." 

"It is my pleasure," he smiled at her kindly before retreating up the walk again so he could turn back to the doorway. "Now if you please join us inside, Doctor Roerich is waiting for us in the drawing-room. Our housekeeper, Mrs Brooks, had prepared us some lunch and we do have quite a bit to get through." 

* * *

A whiff of hot butter wafting past Vin Tanner prompted him to take a deep breath. 

The enveloping aroma filled his senses, suffocating all the other smells. Growing up in the rough and spending much of his life on ranches and in stables, Vin recognised the familiar acrid odour of manure, the gamey reek of livestock and the mustiness of damp hay. He raised his eyes above the crowds of people walking along the dirt corridor separating the rows of animal pens and stalls, seeking the source of that heavenly scent. His stomach tugged impatiently at him like a child wanting attention. 

While Chris, Ezra, Buck and Inez took their meeting with George Roerich, Vin and the rest of the seven opted to remain in town. Cheshunt was hosting its annual fair, and it brought enough people in town to ensure a handful of Americans would go unnoticed. It reminded Vin of the county fairs at home, where locals came out to present their prized animals, produce and craftwork. The crowd was a sea of tweed, argyle fabrics, matching the brown of the dirt and the grey in the clouds above. 

Voices, both human and animal, filled the air, depicting in Vin's opinion, the very best things in life. Community, happiness, the joy of being. Families were making a day of the event. Rambunctious children ran past adults in carefree abandon while others lingered at the fencing around the animals, delighting in the creatures waiting patiently for the judging to begin. 

Something flying overhead made him look up, and Vin spied a majestic bird soaring through the air, a length of leather dangling from one ankle. It took him a second to determine it was a peregrine falcon and he followed its trajectory to the end of Cheshunt's main street and the park framing it. A large group was gathered there, applauding and whooping the performance taking place. 

He didn't think English people knew how to whoop in excitement. 

"What's going on there?" JD inquired as Vin looked around for Alex, careful not to lose her in the crowd. He relaxed when he sighted the doctor at a table, chatting with the woman behind a stall selling jams in jars sealed with checked fabric. 

"The Falconers are putting on a show," Josiah explained, the interest in his face revealed he was about to go take a look at the avian performance.

"They still do that?" Nathan asked fascinated, imagining something like that would have gone out with chain mail and armour. 

"It's a good way to control pests and hunt birds." 

"Not as good as well-aimed bird gun," Vin quipped, drawing laughter from his friends. 

"How long do you think Chris is going to be?" JD found nothing interesting in anything around him. In fact, too much of it reminded him of his youth and those memories he had no desire to revisit. He wished he had gone with Chris to Roerich's meeting but stepped aside because he knew Buck wanted to stay close to Inez.

"A few hours at least," Vin answered as he watched Josiah and Nathan moving through the crowds to watch the show being put on by the falconers. "Once he and Roerich are done, we can head up there."

"I suppose," JD kicked at a pebble that skittered across the damp ground, reminding Vin just how young he was despite his formidable intelligence. "All this," he glanced at the animals staring at him from their pens, their blank faces showing no expression as they retreated from the fences, frightened by the gawkers. "All this reminds me of that fancy estate I grew up in. Mr Astor had more money than God and didn't need to raise livestock to get fed, but they still had cows and chickens, just to show everyone they were like regular folk." 

The bitterness in his voice surprised Vin. JD talked about his mother all the time, but rarely about the place he grew up. Vin almost asked JD about it, when he glanced at the stall, he'd last seen Alex and noticed she wasn't there. Giving the area a quick survey to catch sight of her, Vin's spine stiffened at her continued absence. 

"Vin," JD asked, seeing the sharpshooter's tense expression. "What is it?"

"I don't see Alex," Vin started walking. 

JD followed Vin through the crowd towards the last place Alex was seen. He weaved through the bodies around them, earning disapproving frowns from the people he had to push past. He too, began searching the crowds, although he wasn't convinced Alex was in trouble. With all the stalls and stands along the street, she probably wandered off without thinking. 

That is until he saw a face at the far end of the street, trying to remain unseen, and recognised the man immediately.

"VIN!" 

* * *

Alex hadn't meant to stray. 

Mrs Bouquet, the elderly matron who was displaying her finest jams and preserves, was chatting animately about her recipe for lemon butter. To Alex's surprise, the doctor found she was interested in the making of it. Vin and the rest of the men were trying to kill time, surrounded by the fruits of rustic living, trying not to look inordinately bored. Alex didn't mind, she liked the country more than she cared to admit and it was hard not to get caught up in the festive atmosphere of the day. 

She was listening to Mrs Bouquet tell her all about her lemon butter recipe, in between snippets of local gossip, including what Mr Williams the milkman was doing with Alicia Brown the postmistress when Alex happened to look up. The face appeared only a split second, but it was enough.

For a moment, Alex could do nothing but stare, wondering if she was mistaken. After all, the person resembled any other Englishwoman. Her hair was styled in a shoulder-length bob and she wore a dark blue dress and a tweed coat. The woman moved out of view, darting behind a tent where the judging for livestock was continuing. Alex knew she should have called out to Vin, but she wanted to be sure. She had to be sure!

Leaving Mrs Bouquet abruptly, Alex made her way through the crowds, her good sense demanding she thought she was doing with this pursuit. If she was right, she was walking into a perilous situation, and if wrong, she'd be embarrassing herself for behaving like a stalker. However, everything in her gut told Alex she was right. 

Even though she never spoke to Vin about what happened during the ceremony to resurrect Tiamat, the goddess who created the Tablet of Destiny, she remembered a great deal of what happened. She knew she had been on the precipice of oblivion, where the black climbed up the walls of perdition and gripped her tightly for a brief time. She remembered being a prisoner in her own body, trapped with a monstrous creature intending to destroy everyone she loved. 

She also remembered those responsible for making her their sacrificial lamb. 

Adashir Shah, carrying on his family's twisted legacy, intended to use her as Tiamat's receptacle in this world. With the Tablet of Destiny in his hands, the plan almost succeeded until Julia Pemberton stepped in and ended his life, settling the account for her father's murder. While Alex was grateful to Julia for saving her, the doctor felt cheated because she wanted her pound of flesh. 

She wanted to kill the Shah herself for taking William Styles. 

She hadn't realised how much she wanted it until she saw Aisha's face in the crowd. The woman's brother was dead, but Alex remembered the part Aisha played in her near possession. She'd supported her brother's actions, had been his loyal follower and might have been present when her father was murdered. Whether Alex knew for sure or not, it didn't matter. Aisha was just as culpable for William's end as her brother. If Alex couldn't get her vengeance from one sibling, she would be just as satisfied to get it from the other. 

Alex rounded the tent's corner and noted the rear of it faced an empty field used as a parking lot. Small trucks and cars turned what was once lush, green lawn into a muddy track, crisscrossed by tyre marks. A few people on the way home were trudging across the soft ground towards their vehicles. There was no sign of Aisha, but Alex was convinced she saw the Erran cultist come this way.

* * *

If Aisha had learned one thing about the Erran's previous encounters with Chris Larabee and his men, it was the wisdom of approaching them cautiously. On every occasion where they confronted the treasure hunters, the Erran failed miserably in their efforts to achieve their goals. Thus when news reached her the Darlin' Millie had landed on English soil, Aisha opted to observe the group's movements instead of a direct attack. 

Following Larabee and his entourage to Cheshunt, the Erran kept out of sight by discarding their usual red robes and adopting contemporary English fashions. Krestos was challenging to disguise at the best of times, but he knew how to remain discreet while she watched their quarry. Any search to retrieve the Jewel would require getting their hands on George Roerich. 

They had not been able to intercept the anthropologist before making his meeting with Larabee, but there was plenty of time to catch up to him. In the meantime, she waited in town while some of her men watched the Pemberton Estate. The minute Roerich departed the place, they would have him. What was especially delicious was that with Roerich leaving the country, no one would know he was missing for months. It was a good plan. 

At least it was until Alexandra Styles caught sight of her. 

How the former receptacle of Tiamat recognised her in her current state of dress was beyond her understanding, but remember Aisha she did. Nor did she make any effort to hide the fact she intended to catch up to the Amira. Of course, the woman was a fool who knew nothing about approaching anyone covertly, and Aisha was not about to let Alexandra Styles reveal her presence to anyone. 

Drawing her curved jambiya from her coat, she darted behind some crates and allowed the doctor to pass by her before closing in on the American from behind, intending to drive the dagger deep into her back. 

Whether it was the sound of her boot squelching into the mud or some other foresight she did not know Alex Styles possessed, the doctor spun around, and both women locked eyes on each other. With speed Aisha did not expect, Alex swung out her purse, the patent leather case slapping the hand holding the dagger hard enough for Aisha to lose her grip of the weapon and sent it flying. The Amira was half conscious of the weapon's sharp point driven into a hay bale. 

Whatever Aisha expected to happen by unveiling herself, what happened next was something she did not see coming. 

Alex had been uncertain of what she would do when she found herself face to face with Aisha, but the rage that gripped Alex was unlike anything the normally passive doctor ever experience in her life. After swatting away the cruel-looking dagger, Alex leapt at her in a full-body tackle that sent them both sprawling against the mud. Beneath her, Aisha uttered an indignant cry, outraged and surprised by the violent display. Why not? The last time they saw each other, Alex was bound and gagged, surrounded by the Erran. 

So stunned was Aisha by this hellion's attack, she had no time to mount an assault of her own and realised the fists pummeling her into the mud was not a doctor filled with reason, but someone enraged beyond all measure. She tried to dislodge the woman above her by twisting hard, but when she felt nails sink into her hair and then her scalp, the action only succeeded in tearing flesh. 

"You and your bastard brother killed my father!". 

"AMIRA!" 

The booming voice behind her made Alex look over her shoulder. The hulking form of Krestos, dressed like a country farmer, snapped Alex out of her enraged stupor to realise the cost of her impulsive attack. At the same time, Aisha took advantage of her distraction and twisted hard, throwing Alex off her body. Rolling across the mud, Alex saw Aisha covered with dirt, trying to get to her feet. 

"KILL HER!" 

If the order was meant to engender fear, it did nothing of the sort because coming out of nowhere was Vin Tanner. Followed closely by JD who had pulled out a revolver from his jacket, Vin moved across the damp ground and bounced off the same crate Aisha used to hide, landing on Kresto's back. The sharpshooter caught Kresto's thick neck in a powerful armlock before the Erran could reach Alex. 

Seeing help was at hand, emboldened Alex and the doctor scrambled to her hand and knees, crawling across the ground to grip Aisha's ankle and yank hard. Aisha landed face-first in the mud, splattering Alex with globs of dirt. The Amira spun around in the earth, kicking out her foot and connecting with Alex's jaw. The doctor fell backwards. 

"Move and I'll kill you!" JD fairly roared, cocking his gun at Aisha. The last time they had met, the lady had just about disembowelled him in the ancient city of Ur. Turning to Krestos who was still attempting to dislodge Vin, JD barked just as sharply. "You too!"

However, what advantage he had was brief because their fight drew the attention of the other Erran. Gunfire erupted from the direction of the parked cars. JD ducked as a bullet rushed past his ear, and Aisha took the opportunity to make good her escape. She shoved JD as she rushed past him, causing the younger man to slip. Krestos swung his body hard and managed to fling Vin into the tent hiding their altercation from the rest of Cheshunt. 

Vin's landing was hard, colliding against the tent pole holding up the canvas where the sheep judging was taking place. A loud crack brought down the entire structure, creating pandemonium as the locals within were trapped under the dull, grey canvas. Animals brayed in confusion, as frightened sheep emerging from the tent and scattered. 

Meanwhile, JD crawled across the wet ground to reach Alex, squeezing off a few rounds to protect the doctor while Vin collected himself. 

"You okay?" JD asked her when he reached Alex. 

"Yeah," Alex nodded, oblivious to everything except the vanishing form of Aisha in the distance. Her "But I'm going to kill that woman. One way or another, I am going to end her."


	14. Shrine

Entirely oblivious to the chaos occurring at the county fair, Chris Larabee examined the interior of the Pemberton house and wondered how a place resembling a museum could ever feel homely. 

Whether it was his military upbringing or the plain fact he was American, he took in the manor and stiffened at how rigid it felt to him. With portraits adorning the walls plated with oiled wood panels and upholstery and ancestral suit of armour standing guard in the hallway, Chris couldn't imagine hearing the laughter of children running down these corridors or sliding down the ornate banister framing the sweeping staircases. 

Glancing over his shoulder, he noted Inez and Buck gawked at the surroundings with the awe of tourists as Sir Sean led them to the study where George Roerich awaited. They strolled past the cabinets containing priceless family heirlooms, watched by the painted ancestors with their stern expression. On the other hand, Ezra was studying everything, and Chris guessed the procurer's interest was likely due to his connection with Julia.

"Professor Roerich is eager to get away," Sir Sean explained as he rolled forward. "Since his family left Russia, he's been aware of the OGPU's scrutiny. He and his father hoped travelling through Asia might convince the authorities they have no pro-Trotsky sympathies." 

"Do they have such inclinations?" Ezra asked from behind Chris. 

"Absolutely not," Sir Sean scoffed. "The Roerichs have spent most of their lives engaged in the study of Tibetan mysticism. They're academics, nothing more. Unfortunately, being a member of academia in countries that are discarding free-thinking en masse makes it extremely difficult to conduct any impartial scientific study without someone taking offence."

A woman in a dark dress with a pilgrim collar stepped through the doorway to the dining room. She was in her late fifties, with dark hair drawn back into a severe bun, wearing an intense expression. She regarded the visitors with no reaction but nodded slightly in polite greeting.

"Sir Sean, lunch will be served in about thirty minutes." 

"Thank you, Millicent," Sir Sean nodded before he turned the wheel of his chair to a door further along the corridor. 

Before he could reach it, Chris hastened his pace to get there first and opened the door for the older man. Sir Sean gave him a smile of thanks, and Chris noted the approval from Millicent. Clearly, she cared a great deal for the master of the house and appreciated any consideration shown to him, especially from guests. 

"Thank you," Sir Sean nodded and led them through the doorway once Chris stepped aside.

The study reminded Chris very much of Professor Travis's own bastion at the university in Albuquerque. A built-in bookshelf of dark wood occupied one wall of the room, while the other wall held a window presenting a panoramic view of the manicured gardens and the woods beyond. An oak desk held court in the centre of the room, with two wing chairs and a sofa of leather next to the unlit fireplace. Like the rest of the house, the wall space was covered with fabrics and portraits. 

Occupying one of the chairs was George Roerich. 

It amazed Chris how young he was. Like the rest of his friends, Chris expected Roerich to be young, but the man before him was Ezra's age, with sharp angular features and light blond hair. He stood up at their appearance, smoothing down his dark suit and eyeing them with a curious stare as they entered the room. 

"George, this is Mr Chris Larabee and his associates, Mr Ezra Standish, Mr Buck Wilmington and Mrs Inez Recillos," Sir Sean introduced them. "I take it Professor Roerich needs no introductions." 

"No," Inez stepped forward, not about to stand on ceremony when this was the man who most likely sent Bernardo to his death. "I need no introductions. Tell me what crazy mission you gave my husband that ended up with him being killed?"

There was no mercy in her statement, and every man in the room could see the words struck Roerich like a physical blow. His face turned white, and he swallowed, his intense expression softening to one of dismay and genuine regret. 

"Inez...." Buck spoke up, recognising the burden of Bernardo's death in Roerich's eyes. "Take it easy darlin'." 

"Take it easy!" She snapped at him, just as angrily. "Because of this man, my husband left his family and vanished. I don't even know where his body is!"

That declaration prompted a response from Roerich. 

"It is alright," he looked at the men present. "Mrs Recillos has every right to be angry. May I call you Inez?"

The genuine sorrow in his voice defused Inez's anger slightly, and she nodded, retreating a step back and was almost grateful when she felt Buck behind her. Without thinking, she reached for his hand, clasping it because she suddenly felt drained. 

Facing her, Roerich resumed speaking. "You are as beautiful as Ben said. He spoke of you and your son very often and missed you both greatly while he was away."

Inez blinked, squeezing Buck's hand harder as the loss of her first love surfaced inside her so strongly, she could hardly breathe. 

Seeing Inez's distress, Sir Sean broke in. "Perhaps we should sit down. I'll ring for some tea." 

"Sounds like a good idea," Chris agreed and guided everyone to the seats next to the fireplace. 

The group sat down. Both Ezra and Buck took up position on either side of Inez on the sofa as if they needed to protect the lady from whatever painful truths Roerich was about to reveal. Chris didn't blame them for their concern. After her initial outburst, Inez now appeared deflated and fragile, a far cry from the feisty woman they had all come to know. He could understand what she was going through, however. The answers to all her questions about her husband's death were finally in reach. Yet despite the satisfaction that came from knowing, was the demise of any remaining hope of his survival. 

If Chris were in her place, he would feel the same way. 

"Professor, we ought to get started. We need to know everything you do about the Jewel and Bernardo's involvement in it. Benny's life is at stake." Chris stated, reminding everyone in the room this was more than just about an artifact, but the life of a little boy. 

"Yes, of course," Roerich nodded before eyeing Inez again. "It will be to my everlasting regret the part I played in his death. When I sent him on the mission to retrieve the amulet, I swear to you that I did not imagine his life would be in danger. The amulet was nothing more than a curiosity at that point, not even on display at the museum. It had been boxed up with the rest of the items from my father's Eastern expeditions. Aside from its archaeological value, I had no reason to believe the OGPU would take an interest." 

"But you must have been aware of some danger if you did not go yourself," Ezra pointed out. 

"We didn't go ourselves because we feared we would not be allowed to leave Russia. My father is one of Russia's greatest minds. The Party is trying to build a new Russia, strong and modern, but they also do not permit the intelligentsia much freedom. We fled before they prevented us from ever leaving."

"I can confirm this," Sir Sean spoke up. "There is still an internal war taking place in Russia, with Stalin consolidating his power. The restrictions for the Russian people are mounting the tighter his grip becomes." 

"My father had written some papers on the Jewel," Roerich continued. "Its history and symbolism in Eastern shamanism. He focused on the spiritual power of the object, especially in Tibetan culture. Under no circumstances, did anyone in academia believe the Jewel could work as a wishing stone. I certainly never thought the Party would be interested. The Soviet state has no use for religion or mysticism."

"Well they certainly want it now," Buck pointed out on Inez's behalf.

"Out of necessity," Sir Sean suggested. "From your own encounters with the Nazis, you know Hitler is fanatical about collecting mystical artifacts. Stalin might be similarly motivated to keep up." 

"He's hedging his bets," Chris agreed. "He thinks if Hitler believes it, there might be something to it. He might want the Jewel just in case, all the artifacts in HItler's possession might actually work." 

"But it's....." Roerich started to protest.

"Professor," Chris cut him off. "With all due respect, we've seen some things that might make any man a believer."

"There are more things on heaven and earth than are known in your philosophy, Horatio." Sir Sean smiled. "In any case, the Russians want the amulet, and they've abducted a child to get their hands on it."

Inez uttered a choked sob. 

"It will be okay, Inez," Buck said comforting her, "we'll get him back." 

"I will do whatever I can to help," Roerich added before leaning over the armrest of his chair to retrieve a tube-shaped leather case resting against it. Removing the cover, he extracted a rolled up length of yellowed parchment, weathered and worn by time. "This page is what remains of the _Irk Bitig_ , a 10th-century manuscript found in Dunhuang."

As Roerich rolled the parchment across the coffee table, everyone leaned in for a look. The writing was barely visible, the ink almost entirely vanished into the paper. Chris spied illustrations of a green dragon, its wings spanning across the page as it sat on a perch of flat stone. It bothered him his knowledge of Eastern cultures was lacking and knew he would correct this when he got home. 

"What is it?" Inez broke the silence, staring at the ancient page, failing to see any clue to the Jewel's current whereabouts. 

"This," Roerich explained, "is one of the few remaining texts explaining the culture of pre-Buddist Mongolia, when its people still followed the mythology of the Turkic race from which modern Mongolians are descended. It speaks of an _ovoo_ , what locals call a shrine. This ovoo, called Udan, is shaped like a great dragon, located in the middle of the Altai Ranges. The ovoo was supposedly constructed from a single piece of moldavite, and if even one piece of it was broken, the power of the place will be lost until it is returned. My father believed the amulet was constructed from a broken piece of the shrine. Only when it is returned, will the dragon awaken and reveal the path to the Jewel." 

Ezra groaned visibly, suddenly envisioning a trek across a most inhospitable terrain. His contacts were many, and even as Roerich spoke, Ezra was trying to think of whom he could reach when they made their inevitable journey to that harsh country. "How do we find this Udan?" 

"The Altay Mountains are quite vast," Sir Sean pointed out. "There are numerous peaks along its ranges." 

"My father is certain that the shrine's resting place is in the Sutai Mountains," Roerich's finger traced a particular line of faded script. "You must make contact with the local Sutai, in particular those who still believe in Shamanism. They will be able to guide you to the ovoo."

"Damn Chris," Buck frowned, straightening up and looking away from the map. "That's a hell of a trip to make. I hope we're right about this." 

"If that's what it takes to retrieve the Jewel, that's where we're going." Chris stared at Inez, reassuring her with a glance, that no matter how deep this rabbit hole went they were going down it to retrieve her son. 

"Oh, I didn't mean we shouldn't," Buck quickly looked at Inez to clarify. "I mean I don't know anything about this mystical stuff, but my geography is pretty good. We'd have to fly the Millie to Altai, which is the only town that might be close enough to those ranges and then make the rest of the trip on land." 

"I can tell you now," Roerich added. "You will need horses for the Sutai. I have travelled through the area with my father, it's one of the most arduous terrains on the planet." 

"I have some contacts in the region," Sir Sean spoke up. "I can make them available to you if you wish Mr Standish." 

"Thank you," Ezra bowed his head forward in gratitude. "And you, Mr Roerich, you are leaving England?"

"Yes," Roerich nodded. "My family is taking a journey across Asia. He wishes to visit Tibet and China before returning to New York permanently." 

"This is as good a time as any to go," Sir Sean advised. "I suspect such expeditions are going to become more difficult the closer we approach the new decade." 

Something in Sir Sean's statement made Chris shudder inwardly. 

* * *

When the gunfire broke out, Josiah and Nathan immediately knew the cause. 

As the commotion tore through the crowds watching the falconry display, the two men broke away from the spectators and hurried towards its source. Unlike America, England did not have a proliferation of firearms, so gunfire exploding within town limits caused immediate alarm. Rushing past the locals, they could hear the murmur of anxiety rise sharply, almost rivalling the burst of gunfire taking place on the other end of Cheshunt's main street. 

People were scattering in both directions, some to escape the shooting, while others headed towards it for official reasons or simple curiosity. The gunfire continued, and even though neither Nathan nor Josiah had reached the scene, the firefight seemed one-sided. 

"Are you packing?" Nathan asked. Chris hadn't anticipated danger when they left the plane, and since JD was armed, the healer hadn't seen the need to bring his Remington. After all, the Russians wanted them to find the Jewel, they wouldn't get in the way of their search for it. 

"I am," Josiah produced his Smith and Wesson revolver, "I didn't think I was going to have to use it." 

The shooting was coming from behind a tent. One section of it had collapsed, the cause being a loosened tent pole. The uneven distribution of weight from the heavy fabric tilted the others struggling to hold the tent's shape. It looked like one strong gust of wind would collapse the entire structure in a messy heap. As they closed in on the gunfight, the number of bystanders thinned, and in the distance, the low whine of a police car could be heard approaching.

"We better get out of here, or this is going to be very messy!"

"No kidding," Josiah agreed, closing in on the tent and noting the shreds in the still-standing tent where bullets ripped the canvas. Around them, the smell of manure and musk reminded the former seminary student this was where the livestock contest was being judged. Feathers joined the litter on the ground, as a few stray animals, including ducks and sheep, ran across the street, yet to be collected by their panicked owners. 

"There's Vin!" 

Nathan spotted the sharpshooter along with JD and Alex, their backs to the partially collapsed tent, crouching behind a large crate and bales of hay which afforded little protection from the gunfire originating from the field in front of them. It appeared the empty paddock had been designated a temporary parking lot and their unknown enemy was maintaining their fire from behind the open doors of cars. 

"They can't stay there!" Nathan shouted, peering past the corner of a small newsstand whose owner had wisely vacated when the trouble started. "They're going to be cut to pieces." 

Even as he said it, Vin flinched as a bullet ripped through the wood next to his shoulder, driving him to the floor. Alex and JD were on their bellies against the mud, unable to think of doing anything but keeping low to avoid being hit since the hay bales offered no protection at all. Vin reloaded his gun, but it was clear from the grim expression on his face, he was running out of ammunition. With at least three to four car doors splayed open, Nathan estimated he was dealing with at least four shooters. Vin couldn't hope to cover JD and Alex's retreat to safety on his own. 

"They can't make a run for it," Josiah mirrored Nathan's thought as he drew out his gun and prepared to offer fire. However, he doubted how much help he could be from this distance and with no cover other than the tent, he couldn’t provide Vin with an effective second front. 

The whine of a police car continued to grow louder, and Nathan knew they had to get out of here before the cops arrived. The last thing they needed amid all this trouble was being arrested by the English constabulary. The healer scanned the street, trying to quickly think of a solution when he sighted something that gave him inspiration. 

"Wait here!" 

"Wait here?" Josiah looked at him sharply as a bullet pinged hard against the newstand wall, chipping the red paint. "What are you doing?" 

Nathan didn't answer and simply darted off towards the street again. 

* * *

"I'm almost out!" 

"I don't have any more shells," JD burst out as he covered Alex with his body, trying to shield her as much as he could from the gunfire. He'd handed his gun to Vin after the shooting had started because Vin was the best marksman in their number and he'd make every bullet count. But it appeared the Erran was determined their Amira made good her escape because during the firefight, he caught a glimpse of a dark vehicle at the far end of the paddock, speeding away from the scene. 

JD raised his chin, trying to see if there was any way to get to the tent, but with many of its flaps hanging open, and the number of rips through the fabric, he knew it would afford them little protection, even if they could make it without being cut down. Meanwhile, Alex had said nothing, and although Vin had yet to notice, JD was worried about the woman's state of mind. Alex was one of the kindest and least aggressive people he knew, but since Aisha escaped, she'd said little and seemed lost in her own world. 

He was about to ask her if she was alright when the roar of engines suddenly filled the air. For a second JD thought the Erran was driving a car at them, but the sound came from behind. All three of them looked up at the rising rumble of a car, no not a vehicle, the roar was too loud for that, coming towards them. 

The lorry smashed through the tent, sweeping it aside as it demolished the few remaining tent poles holding up the canvas. Wood cracked loudly in the collision before the crunching of pieces beneath two tonnes of steel. It came to a stop a few feet away from the three of them, the sudden application of brakes splattering them with mud. 

"What are you waiting for!" Nathan shouted through the window. 

JD saw Josiah running behind the truck, jumping into the back tray with the livestock it carried. The shooting seemed to pause a second, their enemy just as surprised as they were, prompting Vin to bark an order to move. 

"Alex, honey come on!" 

Vin took her by the arm when JD scrambled to his feet, heading towards the truck, the passenger door open in invitation. He looked over his shoulder at Vin, when a bullet struck a headlight, spitting glass everywhere and startling him into moving again. 

"GO!" Vin ordered as he and Alex got to their feet and hurried after the young scholar, reaching the truck in a few seconds. Once behind the cover of the truck's door, he helped Alex up before he quickly hauled himself into the cabin and slammed it shut. 

The instant the door slammed, the lorry roared to life again, reversing the way it had come, running over the ruined tent and everything in it as it back onto the street. No sooner than they were on the tar road, the shooting seemed to stop. The Erran seemed to realise any continued fight was futile. Besides, the police siren sounded very close, and as the truck sped through Cheshunt, Vin noticed Nathan was driving in the opposite direction. 

"Everyone alright?" Nathan demanded even with his attention was focussed on the road. 

"Yeah," Vin nodded, turning to Alex covered from head to toe in mud. "Alex, are you okay?

His words snapped Alex out of her fugue state, and she nodded quickly. "Yes, I'm fine. I'm sorry I shouldn't have lost my head back there. I just saw her and I..." she couldn't finish. 

"It's okay," Vin brushed a dirty strand of hair from her cheek. "I get it." 

"Saw who?" Nathan asked as they left the town limits of Cheshunt behind, driving through the winding narrow roads flanked by tall green hedges. 

"The Amira," JD answered bitterly. "Adashir Shah's sister." 

"What?" Nathan blinked, stunned by the revelation. "Why would she be here?"

"I don't know," Vin continued to stare at Alex, disturbed by the enigmatic look on her face he couldn't read. "But it can't be anything good."


	15. Resurrection

"Would you like some more tea, Miss?" 

Millicent hovered over Alex, swathed in a robe as she sat by the fire in one of the wings chairs in the parlour, getting warm. Also in the room was Vin, JD, Chris, Josiah, Nathan and Inez along with Sir Sean. Under instructions from Chris, the two men had opted to escort George to the train, following the revelation of the Erran's presence in Cheshunt. 

"Thank you," Alex raised her cup so Millicent could pour her a stream of piping hot Earl Grey from the ornate china teapot. "Will Mr Roerich be safe travelling to London on his own?"

She directed her question at Sir Sean. 

The older man flashed a small smile. "He's hardly alone Miss Styles. I have had men keeping an eye on him since he left London. Rest assured, he will not be taking the train to the city alone. They know how to keep out of sight until their presence is required." 

"I want to know what the Erran has got to do with this?" Vin demanded, glancing at Alex briefly. He didn't like the idea of the cult being anywhere near Alex, not after what they tried to do to her and Mary in Ur. 

"We haven't heard anything from them since we destroyed the Tablet," Chris explained to Sir Sean. "I thought with it destroyed, that was the end of their religion." 

"Oh they're in disarray no doubt," Sir Sean agreed. "But a cult that existed before Christianity may not be so easily disbanded, and while Aisha Shah still lives, they still have their link to the Sassanid Kings, she's their Amira." 

"How do you know so much about them?" Inez asked, new to the subject of the Erran. 

"I made it my business to keep abreast of the cult's business," he explained. "When I married Eleanor, I realized why she left America so abruptly with an infant, to say nothing of the threat she perceived to Julia after her husband's murder. After that, I learned all I could about them," he fell silent a moment, the affection he held for the unseen woman surfaced in his eyes, before he resumed speaking. "Julia's safety was of great importance to her mother and me. We needed to be prepared in case they made a move against her." 

It was hard to imagine Julia being at a disadvantage for any reason. Chris remembered how the lady turned the tide of the battle during their final confrontation with the Erran. However, he supposed to Sir Sean, she would always be the little girl he raised as his own. 

"Since her brother's death, Aisha assumed control of the Erran, what's left of them anyway. Intelligence tells me she's been sequestered in Greece, but something has drawn her out, and now we know what." 

"The Jewel," Chris concluded. "She's after the Jewel." 

"She probably followed you and your group here," Sir Sean confirmed. "The Erran's sources may have discovered the Russian interest, and I would have no doubt she would have some contacts keeping her apprised of your team's activities." 

"Damn," Vins swore under his breath, angered by the realization he never considered the Erran being an ongoing threat. 

"I don't understand," Inez spoke up, having heard the story of the Tablet from Alex before this. "Does she want the Jewel to bring back the Tablet? Use one mystical object to recreate another.? 

"I don't think that's possible," JD spoke up, the real expert on the subject save William Styles and Professor Travis. "The Tablet was created by the goddess Tiamat, it's linked specifically to her power. We saw that" he paused and glanced at Alex, who immediately stiffened at the statement, "during the ritual to resurrect her. I don't think the Tablet can be recreated without her."

"Then what is she after?" 

"Her brother," Alex answered in a soft voice. "She's trying to bring back her brother." 

The room suddenly felt colder, and Chris noted Vin draping an arm around Alex's shoulder at the statement. In all their discussions about the Jewel and its part in Benny’s abduction and the death of Bernardo Recillos, they never discussed its power as a wishing stone. In recent years, Chris had discovered the legends around some mystical artifacts were not fiction. The Tablet and the Aegis came to mind. What if the Jewel was the same?

Alex's statement brought to light the full scope of the Jewel's power if it actually worked. The ability to resurrect the dead. Even without looking around the room, he knew they were each thinking about the people they'd lost in their lives. Like Aisha, any of them could use the stone for the same purpose. The idea of getting back Sarah and Adam gripped him, and for a moment, the desire was so fierce, he had to fight like hell not to let it set in his mind. 

No, it wasn't right. If there was one thing Chris learned after dealing with the Tablet and the Aegis, nature's laws could not be subverted. Not without cost. Sarah and Adam were dead. While Chris was by no means a religious man and his relationship with God was hardly the thing he wished to brag about, he had to believe his wife and son was in a better place. He would not rip them away from that, even if the Jewel made it possible, and turn them into revenants. 

"It doesn't matter," Chris said firmly, using a tone of voice he seldom used but every member of the seven recognized as being absolute in its intensity. "We're getting it first, and we're using it to get Benny back. Whether it works or not, we are not going to use it to do anything else. Is that understood?" 

Chris shot the two women a pointed stare because he hadn't missed the introspective look in their eyes. No doubt, both Alex and Inez were entertaining the possibility of resurrecting William Styles and Bernardo Recillos just as he had contemplated doing the same to Sarah and Adam. While he more than understood their sentiments in the matter, he would spare them the horror of finding out just how terrible such a choice could be. 

"Hear, hear," Sir Sean agreed and made an attempt to change the subject. "I suggest you make haste and leave England immediately. Preferably without the Erran learning where you are headed next. I have no doubt Aisha has reached the same conclusion as the Soviets, that the best way to acquire the Jewel is to follow you." 

"He's got a point there," Vin added, following the older man's lead to leave the uneasy subject of the Jewel's possible power behind and move on to more practical matters. "I say we leave under cover of darkness and head straight for the Millie. It will be tougher for them to follow us at night."

"Yeah, the safest place for us to be right now is in the air." Chris turned to Sir Sean. "We could use your flight clearance to leave tonight."

Chris knew from Julia's descriptions of her stepfather, the man wielded considerable influence as a high ranking member of British intelligence, and such a request was within his capabilities. If Sir Sean could gain them flight clearance before they arrived in London, they could get a head start on anyone attempting to pursue them out of the country. During their first encounter with the Erran, Chris was painfully aware of the cultists spread across Europe and the Middle East. He had no doubt those same forces would now be watching the airports. 

"Yes, and if I may add, allow me the liberty of lodging a false flight plan as well," Sir Sean suggested. "While I'm confident you will be able to slip away unnoticed, it would be best to take no chances." 

"Yeah, sending them on a wild goose chase at least for a day or two would help," Vin agreed with the Englishman..

"I'll get Buck to give you his real flight plan when he gets back," Chris added. "It's a long way to Mongolia, and we've got several stops to make in between, preferably off the beaten track." 

Fortunately, Buck had been the team's pilot long enough to become familiar with every airport, hangar and airfield between Albuquerque ans Shanghai, no matter how obscure. If Buck wanted to keep the enemy guessing where they were headed, Chris had no doubt that was precisely what would happen.

"Excellent strategy," Sir Sean agreed. "Now I suggest you all get some rest and refreshment, it appears you have quite an evening ahead of you." 

* * *

Benny Recillos was scared. 

He didn't like being scared, not at all. Mister Ezra said scared was what you were, when you didn't have all the cards. Staring out the window of the room where he was trapped, Benny felt his cards were few. It had been many days since he'd seen his Mama and although he prayed to Jesus she was still trying to find him, a tiny part of him feared the bad men had hurt her when they kidnapped him. After they snatched him away from his home and spirited him through the window to the car outside, he heard gunfire. Had they shot his Mama? 

What if she was dead?

The idea filled him with such stark terror, Benny fought to hold back the tears every time he thought of it. With his _Abuela_ dead along with the father he barely remembered, his Mama was all Benny had left. No, he couldn't think of such things. Mister Ezra always said it was never wise to _spe-cu-late_ until all cards were on the table. He would follow Mister Ezra's advice because Mister Ezra always told him true things. The well-dressed, polished gambler never lied to him, never treated him like a child. If he revealed something to Benny, the boy knew it to be the truth. 

Besides, the bad men's leader, the big, tall man who looked like he was carved from white stone and the others called Oblonsky, would not tell him if his Mama was hurt. When they first arrived here, Benny had demanded to know his mother's fate, only to have Oblonsky threaten to leave him in the desert to be eaten by vultures if he did not behave. Somehow, Benny guessed Oblonsky was one of those mean people who would not hide the truth if Mama were dead. 

With nothing to do but wait, with his jailors in the next room, appearing just long enough to feed him and make sure he was where they left him, Benny's thoughts turned inward. Could he escape? Could he get out of this room and find someone to help him. Outside the locked window, the afternoon sun's harsh glare bounced off the thin vegetation across the landscape. The flat plains surrounding the small, dying motel along Route 66 showed no signs of civilization for miles. If he didn't find anyone, he would be wandering the wilderness alone. 

Still, he couldn't stay here. He didn't entirely understand why he was taken but guessed they needed him to make Mister Chris do something. He supposed kidnapping was the only way anyone could make Mr Chris do anything he did not wish to. While Mr Chris was friendly enough to him, Benny could not deny the leader of the seven could be a little scary. Perhaps it was how the man commanded the others without needing to raise his voice but pin them to the ground with his sharp glare. 

It was hot, and the slow whoomp of the fan above provided little respite except to circulate the warm air in the room. A sheen of sweat covered his skin, and he wished he had fresh clothes. The men who took him hadn't bothered to bring any, and he was still wearing the same pajamas from several nights ago. It was starting to smell bad.

Returning to his bed, he climbed on the single hard mattress and considered how he would get out of here. 

He thought of his Mama, his friends at Paloma's and warm afternoons sitting on the hood of the car, drinking a soda while he watched Mister Josiah work on Mama's chevy truck. Benny liked how Josiah would explain what he was doing when he worked on engines because Benny was curious about how things worked. Mister Josiah, whom Benny liked as much as Mr Ezra, often said you fixed a big problem by breaking it down into little ones and solving those each at a time. 

It occurred to Benny, he had a _big_ problem right now. 

He was being kept by men who may have hurt his mother and what they would do to him after forcing Mister Chris to do what they wanted. Would they need him anymore? Once again, the strong desire to leave this place returned although the idea of escape seemed so monumental, how could someone little like him know how to overcome it? Then Benny remembered Josiah’s word. He had to ignore the big problem of being captured by people who might do him harm, and think of all the small obstacles he needed to overcome. First, he had to get out of his room. 

Lifting his chin off his knees, he looked up from the bed and considered his surroundings. When they took him away from Paloma's, they had put something on his face that smelled like gas and made him go to sleep. When he awoke, he found himself in this room. Strange, muffled voices greeted him, some on the other side of the door, others through walls farther away. Further investigation confirmed his imprisonment at an aging, forgotten hotel where few people stayed and the drone of cars came too infrequently for him to be near a town. 

He had considered crying out but suspected if he did, then the men on the other side of the door would come in and silence him. He didn't want that. Oblonsky scared him, and Benny was smart enough to know the big man would have no trouble dealing with unruly little boys. 

Outside were stretches of vast empty land and running into it would do no good. He would die of thirst, and if he didn't, they would find him easily in the flat open terrain. No, what Benny had to do was hide, hide and wait for a chance to get help. Being small meant he could find spaces to crawl into, wait them out, and maybe even make them believe he ran into the desert. The more he considered this scenario, the more Benny realized it was the best hand he had. 

Of course, he did have an advantage the kidnappers did not know about. 

When he screamed for Mama back at Paloma's, there was a moment of confusion when they had to deal with her coming up the stairs. The Russian was distracted just a moment, but it was enough. Benny snatched up the razor blade attached to his radio and slipped into the top pocket of his pyjama shirt. Upon regaining his senses after waking up, he checked the flannel pouch and realized it was still there. Maybe they didn't think he needed to because he was a little kid. Whatever the reason, Benny was grateful. It gave him a weapon. 

He went to the window and ran his fingers along the wooden muntins holding the glass in place, taking note of the paint and glue securing the panes in place. An idea began to form in his mind. By the time he retreated to his bed to think it through, its shape had solidified. When it was night time, and they thought he was asleep, he would get to work. 

As Mister Ezra always said, it was always wise to have an _ace_ in the hole. 

* * *

It was going to be a long trip to Mongolia. 

In a private hangar of Croydon airport, the seven and their familiars were gathered around their car. As decided at Cheshunt, the seven had waited until nightfall before speeding back to London to avoid any pursuit by the Erran, should they be watching. Once here, Buck had a chance to map out the route they would take to reach the Altai Mountains in Mongolia and while Chris suspected it would be an arduous trip to make, hearing Buck's flight plan brought home just how much of a trek it would be. 

Chris stared at the map splayed across the hood, unable to imagine a more roundabout way to reach Mongolia before begrudgingly admitting Buck was right. Mongolia was one of the most remote places on Earth and lying between them and the most direct route was a whole lot of Russia. They would have to land and refuel inevitably, and Chris had no desire to be in Soviet territory.

"Hell, that's going to be a long trip," Vin, who wasn't the best flier, grumbled. 

"Considering its location on the globe, I doubted it would be any other way, Mr Tanner." Ezra pointed out. 

"I don't care how difficult it is," Inez burst out, becoming more fearful for her son the longer it took for them to acquire the Jewel. "But will these men wait? They did not sound patient. What if they ...." 

"Inez that's not going to happen," Alex spoke up quickly. After her momentary lapse seeing Aisha, Alex resigned herself to the fact she was going on this adventure with Vin, no matter how dangerous it was. Aside from her personal desire to avenge herself on the Erran, she wanted to help Inez because the lady was her friend, and it was a way to make herself useful during this journey. "They need to keep Benny safe if they want the Jewel, _right_?" Alex shot Chris a look because Inez really needed to hear him agree. 

"Right," Chris stated, giving Alex a look of thanks for nursing Inez through her anxieties. "If Buck says this is the way we're going, then that's all there is to it."

"Thanks, Chris," Buck regarded his friend warmly for the endorsement. "Look it ain't the fastest trip I'll admit, but if we want to stay ahead of these Commies and Erran, then it's the best one I can come up with. First of all, it will keep us out of Russian territory which for obvious reasons, I ain't too thrilled about entering right now." 

"But they want us to get the Jewel," JD said a little puzzled. "They wouldn't stop us from getting to where we're going, would they?" 

"No, they wouldn't," Chris conceded. "But there's nothing to stop them from taking more hostages if we get in their crosshairs." 

Instinctively, the men's eyes shifted to Alex and Inez.

"That ain't gonna happen," Vin said shortly. "Okay, so take us through it again. We're heading in the south?" 

"Yeah," Buck saw through Vin's question and answered quickly. "We have to cross Europe, there's no avoiding that but I've mapped out our route, so we avoid the major airports. I know a bunch of smaller airfields we can land and refuel without being spotted."

"And Sir Sean was kind enough to clear the way for us to land at some military airfields along the way," Ezra added. 

"Guess you've met with your future father-in-law's approval," Nathan couldn't help teasing. The tension was broken momentarily by the shudder in Ezra's composed mask, revealing his thoughts on marriage. A small ripple of laughter followed as Ezra glared at Nathan. 

"Okay, okay," Chris gestured for their return to the subject at hand. It spared Ezra from going into palpitations at the possibility of being in a marital state sometime in the future. "Buck, go on.'

"We'll cross the Mediterannean and take up Sir Sean's offer to stop at military bases across the Middle East. I figure if the Erran are keeping an eye out for us, it will be when we're trying to reach India." 

"We could carry extra fuel," Josiah suggested. "I know the weight will affect the Millie, but then we can put down anywhere with a flat strip of land and refuel without coming in contact with anyone." 

"That's a plan," Buck glanced at Chris to show his approval. "Especially while we're crossing the Middle East."

"It's prime Erran territory," Chris agreed. "Alright, we'll strip down the Millie, leave behind anything we don't need to carry, try and lighten the load." 

"Ladies," Ezra spoke up, hesitant to bring up the subject, but deciding now was as good a time as any. "I suppose it would be foolish to think either of you would consider remaining behind. Sir Sean has promised to protect you, and I have a great deal of faith in his ability to ensure you come to no harm. This journey will be taxing..." 

"NO."

The pointed statement stunned everyone because it was neither Inez nor Alex who spoke. While both women wore indignant and stormy expressions, it was Chris who made the declaration.

"We stick together."

Under any other circumstances, Chris would be the first to insist the two women stay behind but Inez was here for her son. He imagined just how terrible it would be if he were told to do the same if it were Adam in such a position. He would spare her that agony. On the other hand, if someone killed Sarah and Adam, Chris would chase them to the edge of Perdition and back again. While he had no intention of running into the Erran for the remainder of this hunt, if they did find themselves face to face with the Amira, Chris wasn't about to deny Alex her pound of flesh. 

He would demand no less. 


	16. The Sutai

_This, this is my native land,_

_The lovely country – My Mongolia._

_The finest mountains-the cradles where our ancestors lie,_

_Where we grew up and flourished,_

_The land where five kinds of animals wander in the plains,_

_And the land saturated with the soul generations of Mongols;_

_This, this is my native land,_

_The lovely country – My Mongolia._

_Land where all is covered with snow and ice in winter,_

_And the grasses twinkle like glass and crystal,_

_Land where all is a carpet of flowers in summer,_

_And full of songbirds from the distant lands of the South;_

_This, this is my native land,_

_The lovely country – My Mongolia._

_The rich land between the Altai and Khingan mountains,_

_The land where my father and mother lived and blessed for us in their passing,_

_The land peacefully growing under the golden Sun,_

_And sparkling forever under the silver Moon;_

_This, this is my native land,_

_The lovely country – My Mongolia._

_The mother tongue we learn from childhood is a legacy we cannot forget._

_The homeland we live eternally is a place we cannot depart from,_

_The name Mongol has glory in world history_

_The heart of all Mongols beats with our homeland Mongolia._

_This is my native land._

_Mongolia the beautiful._

**\- Dashdorjiin Natsagdorj**

Ezra described Mongolia as harsh and bleak. Chris observed from astride a grey stocky, leopard-spotted horse with a long mane and thick coat, a land of unbelievable beauty and extremes. In the distance, the roof of Mongolia, the Altai Mountains, held up an azure sky hosting blooms of white trailing clouds. The sunlight bouncing off the snow-capped peaks made Chris squint from the glare, but once his eyes adjusted, it was easy to become enraptured by the magnificence of them. 

The river they would have to cross on route to the mountains lay perfectly still, mirroring the sky above with crystal clarity and flanked by large rolling hills covered with deep green carpets of knee-length grass. Its loveliness reminded Chris of the beauty in the wilds of Wyoming or Oregon. One could easily feel out of time looking at all this as if they hadn't stepped out of a plane only a few days ago. At this moment, Chris imagined if he waited in this spot long enough, he might see hordes of Mongol warriors riding over the hill, with Genghis Khan leading the charge to take over the known world. 

The Millie landed in Altai City or, as their guide hired on their behalf by Sir Sean, called it Yesönbulag sum. 'City' might have been generous because the population was less than ten thousand and what passed for the airport was a single strip of a runway on one of the few flat plains that existed in the area. There was only one private hangar with overpriced leasing fees that Ezra complained bitterly about accepting. However, Buck was unwilling to leave the aircraft in plain sight with the Erran on the hunt, and it was a sentiment Chris shared. 

Their guide was a man in his thirties who spent so much time outdoors, his skin was like tanned leather. Though small in stature, his traditional Mongolian clothing could not hide the compact muscles of one used to living in rough country. A son of the famed Kazakh Eagle Hunters, Naranbaatar, who preferred to be called Naran, spoke fluent English, offering his services to foreign visitors. 

They left the city at dawn, making the journey on horseback. Chris and the rest of his party were clad in _dels_ , the traditional long coats worn by Mongolian nomads, in an assortment of columns from black to green, patterned with ornate geometric designs. Instead of leather, the belts around their waists, orange and yellow for men and blue for the women, were cloth. The need to blend in with the locals was necessary, with no one complaining when forced to complete the outfit with fur caps and rounded boots.

Ezra always objected to anything keeping him away from his expensive haberdashery but remembered they were travelling in this country incognito. 

"Have you been to Udan Ovoo?" Alex asked from behind Vin, riding double, as they crossed the empty plains. 

"I have not," Naran answered as he rode alongside Chris in front of the group. "But I know it. Of our ovoos, Udan is one of the more sacred and most feared." 

"Feared?" Ezra did not like the sound of that. "Pray, tell why?"

Naran stiffened as if asked to relate some tale that left a bad taste in his mouth. "Many of our ovoos were built by the Mongolian peoples, from many tribes. The Durvud, Torgud, Bayad, Oirats or Uriankhai tribes have through time built their shrines to the gods. We do not know how Udan ovoo came to be. The elders said it just appeared one day as if Udan himself rose it out of the earth." 

"Udan," JD nodded, having done his research about Mongolian mythology when they embarked on the expedition to retrieve the Jewel. "He's the creation deity, right?"

"JD," Josiah frowned at the kid's clinical description of Udan. To Naran, Udan might be God. "Mind your words." 

JD stared at Josiah for a moment before catching on and cleared his throat before rephrasing. "You mean Udan, who separated the earth from heaven and then divided the earth into nine stories and nine rivers?" 

"Yes, that is correct," Naran said with a little smile, having caught the little exchange and giving the young scholar credit for trying to be respectful. "Many of the tribes still believe in the old gods and worship them, which is why they built the ovoos. The Udan ovoo just appeared, and it is one of our greatest mysteries, perhaps one of the last left in the world." 

Considering what Chris and the seven had seen over the last year, they had cause to contradict Naran but opted against it. Besides, Naran was right. It _was_ a mystery. After the Tablet of Destiny to the Aegis of Zeus, none of them would ever be ready to discount any legend as fiction. 

"You said only the worthy could see it. Who’s considered worthy?" Chris asked, concerned that there might be some dangerous quest to undertake before they could access the shrine's secrets. It was taking long enough to get to the place, and he was not unmindful of what that delay might be doing to Inez's nerves. 

The shrine is said to be guarded by one of Udan's servants, and it is she who determines who may enter and partake of his wisdom." 

" _She_?" Buck asked automatically. 

Everyone except Naran shot Buck a knowing look before turning to the guide again. 

Naran, who was unaware of Buck's supposed animal magnetism, continued. "Zaarin. She is a beautiful pale lady, who rides the hills of the Sutai with a ferocious bull whose horns are so vast, they hold up the heavens. Her right hand holds the golden token of offering the worthy must give to Udan to gain his wisdom. In the right hand is the bell to summon her dragons to devour you."

"Has anyone gone to the Udan to ask for wisdom?" Nathan asked, keeping his scepticism hidden but supposed someone must have made the pilgrimage to tell the tale. 

Naran's expression darkened. "There have been many, but none of them returned. We only know of their fate from our elders. The shamans can sometimes see things beyond themselves. They tell us Udan's wisdom is not sought lightly and not for purposes that are selfish and greedy." 

"But you are taking us there, right?" Inez interjected. She didn't care if the legends were true or not. All she wanted to do was to find the Jewel. For that, she would storm the gates of heaven itself. 

"Yes Lady," he bowed his head slightly. "I will take you to the mountain but I cannot go with you to the ovoo. I have no questions to ask of it and will be considered unworthy if I go there on another's cause." 

"Then I have to go alone," Inez stated, staring at Chris. 

"Like hell...!" 

Chris shot Buck a look. "Inez, we won't let you go alone. We're your friends, and there's no way we're letting you walk into whatever is waiting for us once we get there." 

"I can't ask you to risk your lives," Inez said, not just to Chris but to Buck and Ezra's whose fear for her was genuine. 

"Madam, our lives are ours to gamble with, and if we choose to roll the dice on this quest, we will do so gladly," Ezra stated. 

"Yeah, Inez," Buck met her gaze earnestly. "We know the risks." 

"We're in this together," Chris stated finally for the benefit of everyone present. "No matter what." 

* * *

After three days across the country, the golden knee-length grass covering the plains between themselves and the Sutai disappeared, replaced by short, scraggly growth that looked more grey than green. The temperature had dropped, and now the _dels_ Naran advised them to wear when they set out from Altai City protected them from the harsh temperatures, the closer they reached the formidable mountain with its jagged frosted peaks. 

The terrain surrounding the Sutai were vast plains of grass-covered hills. The vegetation became sparse with the descending temperature, and only the hardiest of creatures would survive in this brutal landscape. During the journey, scat and the decomposing carcasses of ibex, antelopes and argali sheep, with the carrion eaters perched on their blood-soaked horns revealed the existence of the grey wolves and bears that roamed the plains. The first feeding ground discovery prompted the expedition to ensure someone kept watch over their camp at night. 

Occasional encounters with the numerous Kazakh tribes in the area broke up the trip. Most were semi-nomadic clusters of farmers who made their living driving herds of woolly goats and yaks to better grazing lands. It was a hard, meagre existence that made Chris wonder why they had not quit the area and headed towards the cities for better lives. Yet as he took in the vast plains around him, where the air still held the scent of a newborn world and golden eagles soared across the blue sky, the case to remain was compelling. 

Nevertheless, even with their limited means, the Kazakh welcomed them kindly to their hearths, sharing a meal and warm cups of tea. Naran acted as translator, explaining their proud heritage as eagle hunters who shared an almost symbiotic relationship with their birds. Josiah was fascinated after witnessing the falconry display in Cheshunt, thinking the English kept their birds as accessories for a sport, while the Kazakh considered them a way of life. 

Despite the friendly welcome, Chris agreed with Naran's advice to keep the reason for their journey to the Sutai a secret. The Kazakh were simple, practical folk who might not react well to learning a group of foreigners were making the journey to the sacred ovoo. Most of the tribes this far out, was as Roerich predicted, practitioners of shamanism with minor Buddhist influences. They were also deeply spiritual and might consider the expedition to the Udan to service Russian agents to be somewhat sacrilegious. 

Better not to risk it. 

* * *

It was difficult not to be a little intimidated by the Sutai when they finally saw it. 

The mountain, one many along the Altai Ranges, was two miles high and, from a distance on a cloudless day, pierced the sky like rows of serrated teeth, capped with sheets of pristine white snow. Once they reached the base of it, the sensation of an ancient god glowering at them became more acute. In its hulking presence, Chris could appreciate why Naran declined to scale the heights with them. 

After their arrival, Chris made the first order of business the setting up of camp. Dusk was rapidly approaching, and Chris wanted them sheltered before the temperatures plunged further. Above them, they could hear the winds blowing a gale, threatening to descend a curtain of icy chill with nightfall. While natives avoided the ovoo Udan, a few had crossed the mountain's shadow on their way to other destinations and passed on the best places to take refuge for the night. 

Once at the Sutai, Naran led them to a narrow gap between two peaks. With high walls flanking the gravel-covered corridor, crumbled shelves of rock formed piles along the passage. It provided the expedition and their horses protection from the elements. However, it allowed sentries to see the approach of intruders, animal or human. 

"If you still wish to climb the mountain," Naran stated as the party broke up and started setting up their shelters for the night, "it is best to start at dawn." 

Chris couldn't disagree. They had been travelling all day, and the difficult trek up the mountain would require all their strength. Besides, there were decisions to be made before they set out. 

"This is how we're going to do this," Chris spoke up, capturing everyone's attention and halting their efforts to unpack the horses. "Vin, you stay here with Ezra, Josiah and Alex. Naran will head back after he shows us the way up." 

Superstition was a powerful thing, and no one faulted Naran's refusal to enter the shrine. Still, the idea of letting some of their number go up that mountain alone did not sit well with Vin Tanner. Inwardly Vin knew Chris was making the logical choice. There was no need for all of them to make the pilgrimage to the shrine, and while none of them would say it, such a trek might be too much for Josiah and Alex. Even if he were capable of making the trip, Ezra would bitch all the way up the mountain and force Chris to shoot him.

"Chris, you sure about this? We might be better off sticking together." 

"Yeah, I'm sure," Chris returned Vin's gaze, aware that the younger man's unflappable expression was hiding a great deal more than he was letting on. "We may have shaken the Erran, but someone should be here to keep an eye on things if they should turn up. "

"I cannot say this displeases me," Ezra admitted, supporting Chris's direction. "My many talents do not extend to being a mountain goat." 

"Nice," Josiah rolled his eyes, unsurprised by the gambler's reluctance. He was also astute enough to grasp Chris was sparing him the duty because it might have been too physically demanding. "We'll keep an eye out for the Erran and anyone else that might happen to come along." 

Alex was grateful to be left behind because the last thing she wanted to be was a hindrance when the group needed to get to the shrine as quickly. She was no mountain climber and shared Ezra's feelings on trying to scale the Sutai. "I'll stay behind with the rest of the womenfolk."

"I beg your pardon...." Ezra started to protest, but the laughter from the others drowned out his outraged sputters. 

"I will lead you to the path you must take to climb up the mountain," Naran explained. "It is marked. You will have no difficulty finding your way to the shrine."

"Thank you," Inez said before she looked up at the looming mountain above them. She tried not to be discouraged by its height and pulled her furs close to her body. She was no stranger to mountain treks. During the Cristeros War, as a _Brigadas Feminanas_ , Inez made dangerous journeys to inhospitable places to deliver supplies and messages to her comrades. Admittedly the terrain was very different in the tropical jungle, but Inez was confident she had the stamina to keep up. 

"Nathan, I want you with us in case anything goes wrong. It's a long way up that mountain if we get hurt...."

"I got ya," Nathan nodded, needing no further explanation from Chris. "I'll bring my medical bag and my snowshoes." 

There was no need to ask if Buck was going. Usually, the pilot preferred to stay behind with the Millie, leaving the treasure hunting to his friends. However, Chris suspected on this occasion, Buck would want to stay close to Inez. It was not lost on his friends how close he had stuck to the lady's side since this all began. Furthermore, the absence of Buck's usual swagger in her presence revealed the depths of his feelings.

Secretly, Chris made a mental note to talk to Buck about keeping his distance for the time being. As a widower, Chris knew how difficult it was to let go of someone you loved after losing them. This entire expedition had no doubt awakened some painful memories in Inez about her husband. Christ, he remembered how hard he fought his feelings when Mary entered his life. While his relationship with the journalist was now in a good place, it never took much for memories of Sarah to the surface, and Chris imagined it was the same for Inez. 

This quest to retrieve the Jewel was also about fulfilling Bernardo Recillos’s legacy, and Chris didn't want Buck to get hurt if Inez wasn't ready to move on. 

* * *

The next morning when they reached the passage to the shrine where Naran would go no further, Chris understood why. 

Jagged walls flanked the path into the mountain on either side of its steep steps. Once inside the corridor, the high walls would keep what little sunlight there was from reaching them. Who had built it? Chris wondered as he studied its winding path disappearing into the Sutai. If Naran was right, it would lead them to the shrine and perhaps even to the summit. He couldn't imagine even the most determined Mongol warlord having the patience to waste so many resources constructing this walkway, so far away from civilisation. 

"Jesus," Vin stared at the mouth of it and immediately shot Chris a look of concern. "Pard, I don't much like the idea of any of you going in there." 

"I must agree with Mr Tanner," Ezra winced at the angle of the steps and knew scaling those heights would be arduous, not to mention dangerous if anyone were to fall. "Your way forward appears most treacherous." 

"I can take you back," Naran offered, feeling concerned at leaving his charges to their fates, even if they did not expect him to follow." There is no shame in turning back. Many warriors through the ages have tried to reach the shrine. They did not return." 

"We have to go." Inez blurted out before Chris could. She was daunted by what she saw but not enough to abandon the journey when Benny's life was at stake. "It's the only way to save my son." 

"We'll be fine," Chris assured those remaining behind.

Alex glanced at Vin and felt her stomach twist with guilt, seeing him torn between his love for her and his loyalty to Chris. She cursed her presence here. If not for her, he would be at Chris's side. While she hated the thought of him going into that place, she also knew if anything happened to Chris during this trek, Vin would never forgive himself or _her_. 

"Vin," Alex said quietly. "I'll be alright if you want to go with them." 

For a second, Vin almost took her up on her offer, but Chris settled the matter. 

"Vin, I need you here in case there's trouble," Chris stated firmly, and he met Vin's eyes to show the younger man this was the absolute truth. He wanted Vin down here, not just because of Alex but also because the last thing Chris wanted was to return from their pilgrimage into an ambush. "If anything happens to us up there, you're going to have to get us out of it." 

"We'll be there if you need us," Josiah spoke up, seeing the conflict on Vin's face. "Right, Vin?" 

Vin sucked in his breath and nodded. "Right." 

"Okay then," Chris patted him on the shoulder and gestured at the others. "Let's get going." 


End file.
